One Thing, Every Day
by lightninginmyeyes
Summary: The Salvatores and the Suttons were practically family in the 1800s, but when the boys became vampires, they left Mystic Falls and the Suttons behind. Is it by chance that Stefan reads an old entry about his friends when Rebecca Sutton comes back into the picture? Starts from 7x02
1. Beginning of the Fall

**A/N: Hello everyone, thanks for considering this story for your reading pleasure! This is my first published work, so please send some reviews and critiques my way. Also, I'm open to suggestions about the story as well!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own any of the TVD characters/plotlines/dialogue. I only own the Suttons and their storylines.**

 **Chapter 1**

Beginning of the Fall

Sue knew the art of subtly very well, sneaking right under the consciousness radar.

On the first day, she chose the central seat of the fourth row in the lecture hall; unlike the teacher's pets, her presence was simply a gentle reminder of her existence. She followed the professor's general shuffle from one side of the classroom to the other, noting his hand gestures and his enthusiasm about his topic. Her eyes tracked his, straightening and smiling every time he made a general sweep of the room, but when his eyes settled on her specifically, her eyes lowered sheepishly and the corners of her mouth quirked coyly. As the second week rolled by, she noticed his lingering gazes, coupled with deliberate smiles. This was her cue.

After class, she waited in a line of students waiting to speak with the Occult studies professor. All of the students were, unsurprisingly, female. Despite his age, Sue knew the young women in his class were wooed by his cheeky smiles, five-o'clock-shadow, and fit physique—even she could see the appeal. The first two girls were clearly brown nosers, the first, a petite blonde, for her grade, and the other, a curvaceous brunette, for her lust. Both fawned at his knowledge and giggled at his awkward attempts to keep the conversations professional. Behind her, there was an exasperated scoff; a petite girl crossed her arms and narrowed her green eyes.

"Can you believe them?" she hissed, tightening the lock of her arms across her chest. Her comment was full of disgust. Sue's lips curved into a smirk.

"He's a good professor, but I highly doubt their focus is on his _knowledge_ ," Sue muttered back to the girl with the same thick judgment. Her fellow classmate burst into a fit of giggles before trying to cover her mouth with shock. The brunette flirting freely with the professor threw a dark look back at the two girls, causing more stifled laughter.

"I'm Bonnie," the shorter girl finally said as she caught her breath. Her wide smile was infectious.

"Sue," she replied easily with a tight smile. Before either could continue their conversation, Professor Saltzman cleared his throat, eyebrows raised to indicate Sue's turn.

"May I help you?"

"Yes, hi," she stepped up to his desk with a polite smile. "I'm Sue Beckett." She extended a hand professionally, which he looked at for a moment before taking it gingerly. "I've been trying to follow your lectures, and line it up with the text, but there were some things in the book that I didn't understand. Do you have some time to talk about it?"

Professor Saltzman checked his watch and glanced back at his last student, Bonnie, before a heavy sigh escaped him. He looked as tired as he sounded. "You'll have to come by, during my office hours…"

"Great, sure," she nodded. Then, she sheepishly added, "Um, _where_ is your office, and _when_ are your hours again? Is it on the syllabus?"

Again, unprepared for her willingness, the older man laughed awkwardly, scratching his scruffy chin. Before he could conjure an excuse or stutter an awkward response, Bonnie quipped, "He doesn't have an office, but he's available between five and seven." When Sue raised a brow, Bonnie added, "I didn't come the first day, so I met him at Midnight Brew around that time."

"Here." The professor handed her an orange sticky note with his on-campus apartment address. "You can swing by around… six o'clock, and I'll answer your questions."

"Awesome," she chirped. "Also… I'm a writer for the school newspaper," she began and watched his eyes lower as he smiled a little, "and I'm doing a piece about on-campus life. Would you mind answering some questions about that too?"

"I…" He raised his eyes to her wide, expecting ones before he sighed with a defeated smile. "Sure, as long as we're done by seven."

"I'll narrow down my questions," she promised. "Thank you, Professor." Without the theatrics of the other girls, she nodded her goodbye and smiled at Bonnie before striding out of the room with a smile holding a thousand secrets.

* * *

"So," Bonnie drawled casually as she sidled by to Alaric's desk after the door shut behind Sue. His professor façade quickly dropped as he was in the presence of a friend; his light expression was only masking his dark depression. He had been fighting an uphill battle, even throughout their Europe trip. "The great evacuation plan of Mystic Falls isn't going as great as everyone had hoped."

Bonnie internally cringed at the house. Giving Mystic Falls to Lily Salvatore and her _precious_ Heretic hybrids was a peace offering; Stefan, Caroline, and Matt juvenilely thought they could rid the world of these abominations while Bonnie, Alaric, and Damon were away. Bonnie could have easily told them how their _stupid_ idea would end up affecting everyone, but she just wasn't consulted. The mere thought of giving their town over to Lily and her "children" was even worse than the thought of handing it over to the tomb vampires, something that could have happened back when she was in high school. The Heretics were both physically and magically strong, making them the most powerful opponents the supernatural beings of Mystic Falls had ever faced.

"Well, they turned it into a ghost town," Alaric began, leaning against his desk as he articulated his muddled thoughts. Knowing him and having seen his destructive past, he could easily be hungover right then. " _That_ part worked. Unfortunately for us, ghost towns are like _amusement_ parks for college kids. The Heretics killed ten people already—two, just last night. Idiots, looking for a _ghost_ selfie." He sighed deeply, taking his lecture notes and shoving them into his satchel.

Bonnie watched him carefully; the man had lost every true love he had to supernatural causes, but Jo's death seemed to be the last straw, despite their relationship's short duration. Bonnie finally mustered enough emotional courage to ask, "Are you okay?" The question seemed to startle her friend as he stopped and looked at her warily. "Damon told me what you were doing in Europe."

"Losing my money and sanity to a series of con artists?" Alaric scoffed at his own actions. "Yeah… don't worry." He sighed. "I'm over it."

"It's okay if you're not, Ric," Bonnie said gently. "Actually, I'm a little offended you didn't come to me first." Her tone was light, but her words held weight.

"You wouldn't think it's weird that I'm trying to contact my fiancé, who's been dead for months?"

"Honestly?" Bonnie rolled her eyes with a ghost of a smile. "After everything we've experienced, it'd be weird if you _weren't_." Without letting him continue, she turned to leave, but Alaric's pause was only to find the nerve to tell her what was really on his mind.

"Hey, Bonnie," he called, causing her to turn back curiously. "Have you ever heard of the Phoenix Stone?"

* * *

When Stefan gave his mother the Salvatore boarding house, she gave him exactly one hour to gather whatever he needed. Along with clothes, his current journal, a few of his favorite novels, and a photo album from Lexi, he pulled the dusty box wedged on the top shelf of his closet. When he burned several journals as a statement of a new start, he only disposed of his vampire memories. The dusty box in the shadows of his closet contained the ten years he wrote his thoughts while human.

"Your hour is up, Stefan," he heard from the doorway, behind him, as he stared at his meager belongings in only a duffel bag and a box. He was used to starting over and taking only the things that mattered, but he had always had the boarding house to return to.

"Yes, Mother," he muttered as he pushed his way out of the room. He jogged down the stairs, not bothering to look at the two Heretics in the living room, and slammed the front door behind him. That would probably be the last time he entered the house… until he and his brother figured out a way to get rid of Lily and her beloved "children".

After calling Tyler, Stefan decided to settle in the abandoned Lockwood mansion. The Lockwood house was large, like the boarding house, so it was an easy transition, but Stefan chose it for a more strategic reason. If there were ever an emergency, the house would protect a large population, and all Stefan or Damon would have to do is compel a human to sign the deed, keeping Lily and the Heretics out.

Stefan dropped his belongings in a room but couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from the old box. It probably contained fifteen to twenty full journals, documenting his youth and shift to adulthood. He carefully took a book out and found a chair in the study to read it. He apprehensively flipped through the brittle pages, seeing his handwriting evolve throughout a single year. How long had it been since he last read his own human thoughts?

Then, a surname jumped out at him, one he hadn't thought of in years. Sutton. His eyes skimmed the page, and his memory reeled.

"Rebecca Sutton is a strange girl…" he read under his breath with a smile.

 **Mystic Falls 1857**

" _Stefan." The older Salvatore stood in the doorway of his brother's room, watching as Stefan played with his toys. Stefan's bright eyes captured his brother's muted excitement. "Mother needs for us to go to the bakery."_

" _Why did she not ask me?" Stefan frowned._

" _I was near," Damon shrugged. "Besides, she asked only me to go, but she allowed my request to bring you. So, put away your toys, and let's go."_

 _The younger Salvatore's eyes lit up at the thought of leaving the house, running after his teenaged brother. Stefan spent time outdoors, in the forest or simply in the yard with his brother, but the plantation was far from the main town, and it was too tedious to make frequent necessary trips. Mostly, though, Stefan loved doing things for his mother. Damon called him a "mother's son", a term to taunt the young boy, but Stefan didn't mind. It was true that he loved his mother, and he'd do anything she asked—he clung to the term with pride._

 _Stefan caught up with his brother's long strides and watched Damon as they walked through the dusty paths. Damon stood his full height, with squared shoulders and his hands in his pockets; he nodded with a smart smile at the women who caught his eye, and he nodded with a serious brow to the men he respected. Stefan tried to copy his brother's mannerisms, to which the women cooed and giggled, and the men smiled like a father to his silly son._

" _Are you imitating me, Brother?" Stefan looked up at his smirking brother, but Damon wasn't even looking in his direction._

" _Am not," Stefan protested, untucking his hands from his pockets and folding them behind his back like he'd seen his father do. Damon's grin solidified, seeing the gesture from the corner of his eye, but he did not offer another comment._

 _The road became more populated the closer to the center of the town. More people waved at the Salvatore boys from their yards or their porches, and a few people stopped Damon to ask about either parent's affairs. Stefan watched his poised brother answer questions with courtesy and charm. Stefan always admired his brother for his golden heart, as their mother put it._

" _Who do you think will be in the square?" Stefan finally asked, easily bored by the long walk. "I hope I see my friends."_

 _Damon pursed his lips for a moment before leaning close to his young brother. "Can you keep a secret, Stefan?" Stefan's eyes widened with wonder and honor as he nodded eagerly. "I hope to see Hannah Charleston in the square."_

" _Hannah Charleston?" Stefan echoed. "The girl you talk to before Sunday service every week?" Damon nodded. "You like her?"_

" _Wouldn't you?"_

" _She is much older than I am, Damon," Stefan observed, to which his brother barked a laugh. "Well, she is, is she not!"_

" _As am I," Damon pointed out. "You seem to enjoy my company."_

" _You are my brother."_

" _Anyways," Damon sighed, wrapping an arm around his brother casually. "Hannah is a simple girl, and though I don't see marriage and children in our future, I do fancy her."_

" _If you do not see those in your future, why do you bother?" Stefan asked innocently, watching Damon's expression change deviously._

" _You will understand in time."_

 _As they entered the town square, Stefan's wide eyes took in all of the lively activity. Carriages creaked past, mothers bustled past with six or seven young children, men shouted greetings and barters. The radial town was punctuated with a fountain at the center, the most notorious waiting area. As they neared, Stefan caught sight of a familiar face._

" _Damon, it's Rebecca," Stefan hissed close to his brother with excitement, but Damon's eyes were already on the blonde's beaming face._

" _Well, if it isn't the Salvatore brothers," Rebecca sighed as she stood to curtesy them mockingly. Damon, with a wide smile, made a show of bowing deeply, and Stefan tried the same, causing Rebecca to laugh. "Sit with me as I wait for Ezekiel." She patted the seat next to her on either side. Stefan sat to her left with a great smile. "How do you do, Stefan?"_

" _I am well, Rebecca. Why brings you to the square during high noon?" he quipped. Rebecca, however, didn't seem to hear him as she stared at his hair with a heavy frown._

" _Why do you insist on letting your hair become so unruly?" she muttered, twisting his overgrown blonde strands at his nape. "Do you envy my hair and choose to grow your hair like my own?" She grinned at Stefan's horrified expression as she pushed her own dark blonde hair over her shoulder. She peered at Damon against the sun, as he continued to stand. "Or does he just copy you this way also?"_

 _Damon shrugged, his hands still stuck in his pockets as he looked around. Stefan noticed his furrowed brown and squared jaw. When Stefan had seen his brother with this Hannah girl, he wasn't nearly as anxious as he was then._

" _Mother said she will cut our hair before Sunday," Stefan finally replied. "She hasn't been feeling well these days."_

" _Perhaps I will help her and cut it myself," Rebecca teased half-heartedly, giving his hair a little tug. She gazed up at the intense Damon and scoffed. "Pardon me, Mr. Salvatore, but am I not the adequate company you sought when you came to the square?"_

" _Mother sent us for bread," Damon responded absentmindedly. "We did not come for pleasure."_

" _He is looking for a girl," Rebecca concluded with a devious smile, looking at Stefan for confirmation. The younger boy glanced at his glaring brother but took his chances anyways; Rebecca knew nearly everything about the two boys, it surprised Stefan that she didn't know about Hannah._

" _Her name is Hannah," Stefan informed quietly. Rebecca's eyebrows rose as she looked back to Damon, catching him give his brother a dark look but tried to mask his anger with indifference._

" _Is there any reason why you wouldn't tell me of this Hannah, Mr. Salvatore?" Rebecca inquired with a falsely sweet voice. "Worried I will strike fear in her heart?"_

" _I do not worry about what I know is true," Damon murmured. "She knows of you… and I am positive she would not be delighted to see you and I in close company."_

" _There is nothing to concern her," Rebecca countered. Stefan noted the conversation sharply turning from light to dark. "Does she not know you and Stefan are like my own brothers?" Her eyebrows pinched down together. "Of all the things I hate, the one I_ deplore _the most is my status as a lady."_

" _Do not worry, Rebecca…" Damon leaned closely as if he were sharing a secret. "You are no lady." He was teasing, told by his impish grin and slanted eyes. Stefan smiled as Rebecca's own smile returned. "I have told Hannah you are like a sister to Stefan and me, but she claims there is more."_

" _Then this Hannah is daft," Rebecca declared. She turned to Stefan, prompting, "Do you know this Hannah? How does she impress you? Am I right to think she is dull?"_

" _She…" Stefan gulped, avoiding his brother's wrath. "She is beautiful."_

" _Beauty." Rebecca rolled her eyes as she expelled the word from her bitter lips. "Beauty is as temporary as a flower."_

" _Well, Damon says she is temporary also," Stefan blurted, earning a thump to the back from his brother._

" _I thought that was a secret between brothers!"_

" _And who shall I tell, Damon?" Rebecca interrupted with underlying laughter. "Don't be so ill-tempered. I don't care about your intentions with this dull girl. Where do you think Ezekiel is right now?"_

" _Running an errand?"_

" _He is meeting with his_ own _Hannah," Rebecca said with distaste. "He told Mother we were going for a walk, but he informed me I should wait while he meets with a girl named Gracie."_

" _I know Gracie," Damon commented. "I see why he meets with her."_

" _How well do you know this Gracie, Damon?"_

" _Are you jealous, Rebecca?" His blue eyes caught her hazel ones, but hers held fire and mischief._

" _You have given me no reason to be," Rebecca responded pompously. "Besides, I am just looking out for my brother. That is all."_

" _Ah, here comes the devil now," Damon muttered with a small smirk. "Ezekiel, you dog."_

 _Rebecca's older brother, Ezekiel, approached the fountain with a giddy smile; Stefan had seen that smile on the face of his father after one too many drinks. Ezekiel, with hands clasped behind his back, bowed theatrically to his best friend, Damon, and to Stefan with similar gall._

" _Gentlemen," he greeted. Rebecca stood with a sigh as she adjusted her brother's collar, and Damon helped by petting down Ezekiel's mussed hair._

" _If you are any indication of what your Gracie looks like…" Rebecca whispered, glancing over his shoulder to see an equally disheveled girl leaving the alley behind the bakery. "The poor girl… I'll be right back."_

" _Bless my sister's kind heart," Ezekiel mumbled as the three boys watched Rebecca catch up with the infamous Gracie and adjust her garments._

" _Yes," Damon breathed, wrapping his arm around his friend's shoulders. "Your sister is a strange girl."_

Stefan shut his journal and smiled at the thought of Rebecca Sutton. Oddly, her sweet yet sassy nature reminded him of Caroline… the beautiful blonde that kissed him and never called. He should get a hold of her.

* * *

After a meeting with a colleague, and then a lunch with another, Alaric was drained of false niceties. His legs mechanically brought him across campus, and into his apartment, and his body went through the motions of lighting the fireplace and changing into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. He plopped down on the couch, feeling all of his energy just seeping out, onto the cushions of his couch, but he couldn't sleep or even drink to numb the pain.

He reached into his pocket and produced the translucent red stone he had told Bonnie about earlier. The Phoenix Stone. He stared into its internal facets as he turned it over and over in the palm of his hand. This was his chance, his salvation. This was the one thing he found, in all of his supernatural research, to successfully bring his sweet Josette back to him.

A knock on the door yanked him from his hopeful thoughts. In his doorway was the petite Bonnie Bennett, gripping the strap of her messenger bag as she entered his apartment.

"Cozy," she commented.

"Would you like something to drink or…?" Alaric offered, sitting on a cushion by the fireplace. Bonnie sat on the cushion across from him, eyeing him curiously. "I'm sorry… I don't usually have guests, and when I do, there's usually a woman around to make host-like offers…"

"It's all right, Ric," Bonnie smiled gingerly, taking a hold of his hand briefly. "Just tell me about the stone."

"An old contact of mine from Duke told me about it," Alaric confessed as he examined the stone still in his hand. "It…" Alaric tore his eyes away from it, feeling like Gollum with the One Ring. "It's supposed to have resuscitative powers."

"Resuscitative powers?" Bonnie's eyebrows pinched up, incredulously painted across her face. "As in, it can bring someone back from the dead?" The idea, of course, wasn't foreign to either of them, but still, Bonnie's skeptical tone and apprehensive attitude made Alaric sneer bitterly.

"And _that's_ why I didn't tell you," Alaric said, punctuated by a quick scoff. "Because I was avoiding _that_ look."

"Where did you find it?" Bonnie inquired, leaning forward. Alaric was secretly glad she was so intrigued; it boded well for him because maybe it'd ease her mind about using the stone for Josette.

"Do you remember that night in New York?" he prompted.

"Yeah, the night you passed out on the floor of that bar…" Bonnie mused with a small smile at the memory. When she caught sight of Alaric's corrective glance, she amended her answer. "The night you _pretended_ to pass out on the floor of that bar…"

"Yeah, well, I snuck into a maritime museum, and this was on display there."

Alaric watched Bonnie's contemplative expression as she watched the stone Alaric toyed with before she opened both of her palms willingly. Alaric's eyes interrogated her, but she just gave an encouraging smile. He finally placed the stone into one of her palms and watched her nervously as she assessed the magic inside of it.

"It's certainly pretty," Bonnie murmured with a hopeful tone. Her eyes shut as she weighed the magic of the stone in her hand. "But… I don't feel any magic emanating from it…" she finally admitted.

Alaric gave a bitter laugh. "Well, you are more honest than anyone I saw in Europe," he allowed. His light tone was only a cover for the plummet of his heart and hopes. Bonnie closed her eyes again, pressed shut with concentration. "What are you doing?"

"Sometimes, witches will conceal a magical talisman or relic by hiding the magic inside of it." Alaric immediately thought of Bonnie's teddy bear that she had stored her magic in.

Bonnie concentrated in silence for a long moment before the fire sudden grew with a burst, and Bonnie's breath became short and panicked. Alaric wanted to reach out, bring her back to reality, but his selfish desire to bring his fiancé back was stronger. Though he feebly asked her what was going on and if she was okay while she fidgeted under the influence of the stone, she did not reveal her green eyes for a few more long moments.

'Bonnie, what happened?"

"I don't know." Her voice quivered; she sounded like when she first started discovering her magic. "I saw something. People dying…" Her bottom lip shook as she continued, "There's something wrong with that stone, Ric. Something evil." Alaric watched Bonnie's panic, and though he felt guilty for not breaking her connection, he felt even guiltier for knowing what she was saying was true.

Unfortunately, for Alaric, there was nothing Bonnie could not ascertain from a creased forehead and a defeated sigh.

"But your friend from Duke already told you that, didn't she?" Bonnie pressed. "Which is why you waited until you were flat out desperate before you told _me_ about it." Guilt shone on his face, but Bonnie would not falter. "Can't mess with that magic, Ric. We have to destroy it."

Destroy it? Although he would agree to pacify Bonnie's fear, he felt the hope of the stone too strongly to ever let it go.

* * *

"I only hear one set of footsteps."

Damon rolled his eyes as he heard his younger brother's condescending tone from the Lockwood's open study room. After finding out their mother took Caroline for his hasty act of killing Malcolm, one of her _precious_ Heretics, Damon went to the boarding house to make amends. Unfortunately, his bitter mother turned down his scrawny apology and shut him out.

"And I only hear righteous 'I told you so's," the older Salvatore retorted, sauntering into the room with ease. Though he failed to get back the object of his brother's affection, the guilt was minimal. Nearing the desk Stefan poured over, Damon spread his arms with a tight smile, saying, "Look, I offered myself, but Lily declined."

Tearing his attention away from the blueprint spread in front of him, Stefan delivered a wide, forced smile, bitterly declaring, "Looks like nobody wants you around, do they."

Damon made a playfully irritated face at his brother before registering why Stefan even had blueprints of the boarding house. "Ah, planning a little midnight raid through the tunnels?" he inquired lightly. Stefan gave an affirmation glance, to which Damon pursed his lips, hating to be the bearing of bad news. "Well, there's a little, _teensy_ problem with that…" Stefan didn't even look up until Damon said, "We no longer own the house. I.E., we can't get in."

This caught Stefan's attention. "What?" he demanded.

"Have no fear," Damon responded calmly. He felt Stefan's eyes practically bulging out of his head. "I have a call in, in the registrar's office, and I will found out who exactly _does_ own the house in a matter of minutes." Damon strolled over to the couch by the fireplace. "At which point, we will kill said person, storm the castle, and save your damsel."

"You're really enjoying this, aren't you?" Stefan accused with narrowed eyes. Damon could tell his brother wasn't worried Caroline would die, but sometimes, Damon realized, people will be tortured, no matter how much you plead with their captors.

"I have sixty years to kill," Damon shrugged and plopped down on the sofa, stretching his arms over the back of the couch. He had to fill his days without Elena somehow. "Having an enemy, a _nemesis_ , a maniacal villain with maniacal villain motives? You kidding me?" The dark-haired vampire gave his brother an elastic smile, nearly giddy with the thrill of the scenario. "That's not the worst distraction in the world, don't you think?"

"That's funny you think she's the villain when _you're_ the one who killed one of her loved ones." Damon briefly wondered how Stefan could stay objective about their mother's misplaced loyalty; though he'd never admit it out loud, the fact his mother chose a different family cut him deeper than any other rejection in his life.

"You taking her side?" Damon questioned, his light attitude becoming dangerously dark within seconds. He glared at his brother, urging him to say the wrong thing just to pick a fight.

"No," Stefan responded with a tight smile, "but I'm definitely not taking yours."

* * *

 **Thanks for reading, send me your thoughts!**

 **Love,**

 **glass27doll**


	2. Revelations

**A/N: Thanks for the follows/favorites/reviews so far! I'm really excited to share this story with you guys—it's hard for me not to post it all at once! Send me some reviews/critiques/suggestions, I'd love to read them! Oh, and if you want to discuss S7 in general, PM me… I have no one else to talk to about it!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own any of the TVD characters/plotlines/dialogue. I only own the Suttons and their storylines.**

 **Chapter 2**

Revelations

Sue passed Bonnie on her way into Professor Saltzman's apartment complex, but her new acquaintance was too absorbed in her phone to notice. It didn't bother Sue, though, considering it was difficult for her to keep female friends _and_ she didn't care for frivolous, "friendly" dialogue. The dark blonde squared her shoulders as she found Alaric's apartment, mentally running through her planned conversation with him.

She had her backpack, her textbook cradled in one arm and a tray of coffee balanced in the other hand. The goal of this visit was more intricate than asking a few questions, but she left obligated to keep up appearances with her professor… especially since she could see past his blithe attitude to his hopeless and broken core. Sue was cold, but she wasn't heartless.

"Oh, hello," Professor Saltzman greeted as he answered her heavy knock. He looked more relaxed, swapping his usual collared shirt for a t-shirt, but other than that, he looked completely disheveled, consumed by his own thoughts. Sue idly wondered if Bonnie's appointment was the cause of his undoing. "I… I'm sorry. I totally forgot your name."

Sue gave a small, sweet smile; the whole point of her existence was to be easily forgettable. "Sue Beckett," she supplied. "I'm sorry if I'm a few minutes early. I was doing homework at Midnight Brew, so I thought I'd bring you some coffee."

"That's very considerate of you," the man mused, taking the tray she offered. "Please, come in… you can have a seat on the couch."

"Thank you," Sue nodded gratefully, stepping into the apartment gingerly. "I got your coffee black with sugar… wasn't sure if you were lactose intolerant or something."

"Actually, that's exactly how I have my coffee," he smiled, taking a cautious sip. "Midnight Brew definitely knows what they're doing."

"Better than Starbucks," Sue nodded as she sat at the edge of the couch cushion. His apartment was rustic, emulating his style and personality; Sue wondered if everyone was as transparent as he was. "Okay, so, Professor, I was thinking—"

"Oh, wait," he said, holding up a hand. Sue's mouth snapped shut. "I'm not _professor_ outside of the classroom, Sue," he corrected. "Call me Alaric."

"…okay," Sue muttered, playing the self-conscious young woman. "I wanted to start with the interview questions first, because my deadline is tomorrow, and I don't waste your time."

"No, I'm happy to help," Alaric smiled kindly. She lowered her eyes as she smiled a little to herself, checking her cell phone for the questions. When her eyebrows furrowed and she covered her mouth, Alaric took note. "Is there something wrong? Your questions got deleted or something?"

"My…" Her voice broke, to which she pursed her lips and took a moment to compose herself. "My boyfriend just… he just broke up with me over a text message."

"That's… extremely undignified," Alaric responded darkly. "I'm so sorry, Sue."

"I live with him," she whispered to herself. "I don't even have any close friends to live with, I'm from out of state… housing closed, like, a week ago, and I just… I don't have enough money for an apartment…" She felt Alaric's eyes glued to her quickly escalating panic as she processed the change. She looked up at him, tears streaming down her face stoically, and muttered hopelessly, "What do I do?"

"Okay, first, don't panic." Alaric hopped from his seat across from her to the seat next to her on the sofa. "It may take a couple of days, but I'll see what I can do for you through the housing department… They're hard-asses, but I _am_ a professor." He paused, eyeing her with caution, when he finally said, "Until then, you can stay with me."

"Oh, no, Professor-" He gave her a look. "I mean, Alaric… I can't just put you out of your apartment like that, I…" She covered her face to hide her contorted face. "Besides, it's extremely inappropriate and, like, against the rules for me to stay here… let alone, for _free_."

"Sue, it'll only be for a couple of days," Alaric reassured her, putting a hand on her back for comfort. "I don't mind helping you out."

"That's… incredibly generous of you," she whispered, avoiding his eyes. Instead, she curiously studied his watch. "I don't know how I could ever repay you."

"Just don't make me sound like a complete dick in your article," he said with a laugh. His comment made her laugh, but her eyes remained on the expensive looking watch. "You're not going to steal it, are you?" Alaric inquired playfully though her rapt attention seemed to alarm him.

"It's just a really fancy watch for a professor," she muttered.

"It was a gift. It's been like a…" He paused to choose the right word. "Like a lucky relic for me. Protects me."

That was all the information she needed. Without hesitation, she ripped the watch from his wrist, feeling the sting of the vervain against her palm, and she pinned Alaric's arms down to his sides as she leaned forward.

"You're a—"

"Don't be afraid," she whispered, her pupils constricting as his dilated. "You are going to let me stay here for as long as I need to, and you are going to hire me as your TA. You also hate this watch, and you started to drink vervain in your coffee. You already made the special blend and marked the bag with a V, so there's no need to make another batch anytime soon."

"You can stay as long as you like," Alaric replied monotonously. "You can repay me by being my TA."

"Sounds excellent," Sue murmured, eyeing the man like a cat with its toy. "Forget this happened, and forget what I am. I asked you my interview questions and left to get my belongings from my ex."

"I'll keep the key under the matt," he compiled.

She patted his face with a patronizing smile, "Good boy."

* * *

After meeting with Alaric, Bonnie had to rush back to her and Caroline's dorm room to pick up her materials for the next series of classes she had for the day. Unlike her roommate, Bonnie was more active at night, so she took most of her classes during the evening; in fact, Alaric's class was her only class before noon. As she shuffled around and shoved things into her bag, she heard her phone's annoying chirpy ringtone. She didn't have to see Damon's smiling face flash on her screen to know he had programmed the grating noise as his ringtone.

"Bonnie Bennet, destroyer of dreams," she answered with a singsong voice.

"So, I take it things didn't go to well with Ric?" Damon responded immediately.

"He wants to bring Jo back to life," Bonnie reported, a darkness creeping into her voice. She wedged her phone between her face and her shoulder as she continued to gather her belongings. "With a stone that's filled with evil incarnate."

"Yep," his lips popped the monosyllabic word, "sounds about right." Bonnie frowned at his cavalier attitude. "So, about how long do we have before this evil engulfs the world?" She could imagine him pausing to sip his bourbon or to plaster that famous, sarcastic smile across his sharp face. Bonnie knew her vampire friend well. "Just trying to plan my week."

"I convinced him to drop it in a vat of acid," Bonnie assured. However, the thought was more of a relief for her. When she held the stone, she saw complete chaos, and for the first time in a long time, she actually felt crippling fear. Those visions were nothing to play with. "So, I think we're good. How are you?"

"Oh, you know, just trying to figure out how to break into my own _damn_ house," Damon hissed. Bonnie raised a brow, noting that he didn't actually describe his emotions. "I no longer own it; Lily sighed over the deed."

"Why would she do that?"

"Probably because she didn't want us to rescue Caroline…" Damon's tone would have seemed uncaring and conversational to any other person, but Bonnie could hear the underlying guilt and apprehension.

"She took Caroline?" Bonnie demanded through gritted teeth, stopping her frantic rush to leave the dorm. She didn't realize Caroline didn't come home, thinking she was probably with Stefan or something; their schedules were so oppositely made, they barely saw each other. "When? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I'm going to get her back," Damon shot, "and I didn't want you to do the very thing you're about to do." Bonnie sat on her bed, trying to process his words without panicking—instead, when the bigger picture fell together, she fell straight into blame.

"It's because we killed Malcolm," Bonnie breathed, starting at the floor, remembering their night in Mystic Falls vividly. Damon saved her, but she instigated the confrontation.

"Yep, there she goes," Damon commented exasperatedly. Just as Bonnie knew Damon, he knew his friend as well; her selflessness, he always said, was her demise.

"This is all my fault," she continued, her eyes welling a little. All she could think about was the torture Caroline must have been subjected to. What if they kill her because they killed one of theirs?

"Listen to me," Damon interrupted her thoughts with a stern voice she had only heard a few times before. The last time was in 1994, in the prison world, scolding her for her hopelessness… it the first time Damon actually acted his age. "Killing Malcolm is Classic Damon," he continued, "has _nothing_ to do with you." Bonnie rubbed a hand over her face. "Everyone knows that."

"You're covering for me?" Bonnie implicated.

"Because I need your head in the game, Bon," he explained with a gentler voice. His tone switched from reprimanding to erratic. "I have a mission for you… and it involves the person who owns my house."

* * *

Caroline felt no remorse for laughing at Nora's ridiculous Victorian era dress, but her laughter caught in her throat when she saw Mary Louise's eyes widen with murder. The blonde Heretic sauntered forward, pointing the eyeliner at Caroline.

"If you ever embarrass my girlfriend again…" she growled, letting the threat hang in the air.

Without hesitation, Mary Louise punctured Caroline with the eyeliner viciously. Caroline bit her lip, keeping herself from crying out, but it didn't seem to satisfy the overprotective girlfriend. She found more sharp objects and just threw them with great precision at Caroline's torso. Finally, Caroline let out a wail, to which Mary Louise smirked at before finding Nora. Caroline hung her head, panting; she couldn't die from blood loss or damaged organs, but with the objects still embedded into her, she still felt like she was dying.

"Ouch." Caroline barely lifted her head to see another Heretic, Valerie, with her arms crossed. She studied Caroline with an unreadable expression, which Caroline wonder if she was going to continue where Mary Louise left off. "Nora or Mary Louise?"

Caroline sighed, not wanting to play these torture games anymore. She sighed painfully, feeling the scissors jabbed into her chest move as she did. "Mary Louise," she finally admitted.

"Hmm, lucky," the vampire witch mused disinterestedly. "She's the nice one."

"Yeah, not if you laugh at Nora," Caroline scoffed. Valerie rooted around Stefan's room while Caroline watched apprehensively.

"You didn't," Valerie said with a muted shock as she returned to Caroline with a box.

"I couldn't help it… that _dress_." Caroline sighed as Valerie slipped the box under her feet to prevent her from hanging; the strain on her arms made her feel like they would pop right off.

"The Queen Victoria one?" Valerie quipped. Caroline nodded, to which Valerie gave a sly smile. "Oh, you shouldn't have said anything… It would have been _hilarious_."

"What? You don't get along with them?"

"Once," Valerie began as she ripped the small pair of scissors from Caroline's chest. Caroline sighed with relief, feeling her lung repair itself. "I made a snide comment about Nora's hair," Valerie extracted the letter opener from Caroline's abdomen, "and Mary Louise poisoned my food for a month." She finally pulled the eyeliner pencil from Caroline's arm, to which Caroline gritted her teeth considering the pencil was wooden and hurt the most. "They are the worst, but I can help."

Valerie closed her eyes, hovering a hand over Caroline's chest, and began muttering a spell. Caroline, unable to move, watched her concentration and listened to the not-so-Latin spewing out of her mouth—hopefully, her years of Latin classes had paid off.

"Why the hell are you in here?"

Caroline looked up with terror as Mary Louise returned to the room; her arms were crossed and the daggers she was glaring almost made Caroline flinch. Valerie, on the other hand, was collected as she turned to her Heretic sister with a sour smile.

"Just looking for this," Valerie lied seamlessly, as she held up the eyeliner pencil. "See, I heard of this new fashion trend, called 'hooker chic'. I figured _you'd_ have something." Valerie gave Mary Louise a taunting look as she bounced her eyebrows and chirped, "Thanks!"

"What did she say to you?" Mary Louise demanded.

Caroline clenched her jaw, knowing her silence would have consequences, but she also didn't know what Valerie's spell would have done. Her eyes held determination as she glared back at Mary Louise, but the other girl just kicked the box from underneath her feet and reached to grab her arm. Caroline groaned at the pressure, but Mary Louise yanked her hand away in pain and yelped with frustration. She tried to grip Caroline's arm again, producing the same burning result.

"That bitch!" Mary Louise screeched as Caroline discovered her salvation with a small, victorious smile. "Good thing I don't need to touch you to do this," Mary Louise growled as she injected Caroline with a high dose of vervain.

"Wrap it up, let's go," Nora said disinterestedly as her heels clicked against Stefan's wooden floors. "Lily's waiting."

Caroline noted the wardrobe change, but Mary Louise was still glaring at the captured blonde when she responded, "What about Oscar?"

"He's not back yet. Apparently, his _errand_ is too important," Nora sneered.

"Of course it is. Meanwhile, we're stuck here until he's done," the other Heretic fumed as she stormed out of the room. Nora watched her leave, disappointment painting her features as her girlfriend didn't notice her revealing dress; she apprehensively glanced at the fading Caroline.

"Cute," Caroline offered feebly, trying to keep her head from dropping.

Nora hummed her gratitude. "Thank you." She eyed Caroline once more before rushing away. Caroline couldn't keep her eyes open for much longer anyways.

* * *

"Well?"

Stefan's demanding tone seemed to roll off of his older brother like water off a duck. It threw him back to when they were human, when Damon would brush off his brother's youthfully ignorant questions; but Stefan was no longer a child and refused to be treated lower than his brother. Especially when his Caroline was in the hands of his disowning mother and her powerful posse.

Damon rolled his eyes and refilled his glass with whatever bourbon he found in the Lockwood wine cellar. "Bonnie said she knows what to do."

"And what does _that_ mean?"

"Let's go," Damon announced, ignoring Stefan's exasperated question. He threw back his drink and started for the door. "Coming, Brother?"

"Where are we going?"

"Wow, I just had a flashback to when you were twelve," Damon jabbed with a sardonic grin.

Stefan clamped his jaw shut, choosing to let Damon have this victory. They climbed into Damon's car and drove for only a few minutes, stopping at the edge of the forest behind the boarding house. Stefan's brow seemed permanently furrowed as Damon whistled as they exited his car and began walking to toward their former home.

"All right, Damon, why are we going to the house?" Stefan sighed deeply. "We can't get in, and no one is killing Matt Donovan."

"How naïve of you to think Donovan wouldn't put his life down to save his former love," Damon said with a cryptic singsong voice. "But it's extremely naïve of you to think his death is the only way around our problem."

"What?" Stefan stopped and stared at his brother menacingly. He was thoroughly agitated by his brother's oblique conversation. "Stop being so _evasive_ and tell me the truth."

"Part of my charm, my dear brother," Damon smiled widely. "Bonnie is going to stop Donovan's heart with magic… and then bring him back, of course." Damon rolled his eyes and continued walking. He called behind him, "We should be close to the house as soon as she lets me know."

"He's never going to agree to it." He said it but wasn't sure if he believed it.

"Donovan knows Plan B is, I just simply kill him," Damon scoffed.

"Well, it's good to see your morality is holding up in Elena's absence," Stefan scoffed. He felt his brother's eyes on him, thinking of another jab, but Stefan changed the subject before he had a chance. "You know who I haven't thought about it in a while? You remember the Suttons?"

"Ezekiel was my best friend," Damon replied with an obvious tone. Stefan gave him a sideways glance, seeing Damon's body tense. "And of course, could never forget Rebecca…"

"Yeah… I was reading about when she learned about you and Hannah Charleston," Stefan chuckled a little. Damon frowned, glaring at the path before him.

"How did you read about it? Didn't you burn all of your journals?"

"Not my human ones," Stefan admitted. "Did you ever go back to see if she was okay?"

"Why would I? I was a vampire, and she was a human." Damon shrugged, but Stefan knew his brother.

"Rebecca was, like, the _only_ girl you've ever been close to that you didn't sleep with," Stefan scoffed. "She meant something to you, more than you're willing to admit."

"Well, even if she did… she mourned for me by the time I got the nerve to see her," Damon said quietly.

"So, you _did_ go back to see if she was okay," Stefan pressed. Damon pursed his lips and rolled his eyes. "I did too, actually..."

"So, are you and Carebear, like, a _thing_ now, hmm?" Damon wondered, completely abandoned their conversation of the past. Stefan rolled his eyes at his brother's childish attempts to get a rise out of him. Damon simply smirked.

"I'm not doing this with you, Damon."

"So, I must listen to your drivel about Rebecca when you can't answer a simple question?" Damon countered. "I'm just saying… when a guy is willing to get another guy to die, so his girl can live, there's usually something," Damon clicked theatrically, "cooking in the kitchen, you know what I mean?" Damon's innuendo made Stefan's ears burn, but he had to stop Damon's one-track mind.

"Hey, I am _not_ willing to let Matt die," Stefan corrected, but Damon wasn't listening. His phone vibrated in his hand, and he swiped the screen to see a text message.

"Yeah, well, you just did, brother… Seal's down." His older brother patted his arm. "I'll take the front door." He bounced his eyebrows at Stefan, adding ominously, "Enjoy the tunnels."

* * *

"Alaric, you're back," Sue commented from the kitchen as she heard the front door open and Alaric's familiar footsteps step into the apartment. During every class, she spent the time memorizing his footsteps, for this very reason. She peeked through the archway of the open kitchen to smile sweetly at her professor. Or, at this point, her puppet. Staying with the only Occult Studies professor in all of Virginia just seemed like more responsible than exposing a naïve person to the supernatural world.

Alaric stopped as he hung his jacket on the coat rack by the door; he started like he had forgotten about his arrangement with Sue, but he recovered quickly, delivering a polite smile and greeting. "Hey, Sue. Did you get your stuff from your ex's?"

Sue was impressed, wondering how chaotic Alaric Saltzman's life really was. As she knew about him was that his wife had been turned into a vampire and deserted him. She responded to his question with a feigned uneasiness. "I did… I put it in the extra room... if that's all right."

"That's all right," she heard Alaric's reassurance. She added her finishing touches to the dinner she made; being around for a few centuries had its perks, like learning and perfecting every culinary technique. "What are you-?"

"I made you dinner," Sue smiled widely as she spun around with a plate full of food. Alaric stood in the walkway of the kitchen with scrunched brows. The plate contained baked chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, and a medley of vegetables.

"Sue, you didn't have to do this." She noted his alarmed tone and, judging by his quickened heartbeat, he was beginning to panic. It almost made her laugh—his fear derived from thinking she was a crazy stalker and not an immortal creature that could easily drain him dry.

"I wanted to," she shrugged. "It's, honestly, the very least I could do. After all, you're breaking all sorts of rules for me to be here."

"Well, if you keep announcing it like that, maybe we _will_ get caught," he joked as he took the plate from her. He grabbed some utensils for both of them as she carried her own plate to the living room. She sat on the opposite side of Alaric, showing her platonic intentions. He reached over to hand her a pair of utensils.

"I'm sorry… I just don't know why you're helping me," she confessed. She truly didn't understand how the man could allow a stranger into his house, to stay, without knowing her; it fascinated her but also worried her. His openness could mean he knew how to handle a supernatural situation when necessary.

"I may be a college professor," he said, stabbing a piece of steamed carrot, "but I've had my fair share of hurtles thrown my way… I know what it's like to be hopeless…" He chuckled a little. "And homeless."

"Well… I seriously cannot thank you enough."

"No need," he waved away her notion. With a gentler tone, he asked, "So, how did it go with your ex?"

"He wasn't there when I started to pack my stuff," she lied. Sue was a good liar—being what she was, she had to be—but her heart couldn't handle toying with this man. She felt like the monster she truly was, but she needed him. "But… he came back when I was leaving. He wanted to apologize." Alaric scoffed before he stuffed mashed potatoes into his mouth. "I know… I was appalled. It was like he flipped a switch." She smiled internally at her vampire innuendo. "But I told him he was a disgrace and just left."

"He is a disgrace," Alaric nodded, "because any man who gives up someone like you is brain dead."

"Thanks, Alaric," she chuckled, cutting her chicken into small pieces. She glanced at his plate, seeing it was nearly empty.

"This is amazing, by the way," he managed to say. She laughed at his full-mouthed compliment.

"Thank you… I used to cook a lot when I was, uh, younger. And then, you know, college happened." She laughed lightly before continuing her meal. Alaric took her quiet attitude as sorrow over her ended relationship and "homeless" situation.

"I can talk to the housing department tomorrow," he said suddenly. She glanced at him, not having to fake her grateful expression; she was grateful that there were still people who didn't have to be compelled, though she compelled him for good measure. "We'll get you your own place in no time." He reassured her and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry."

"I believe you… thank you,' she repeated with a kind smile.

* * *

 **Send me your love, and I'll send back some of mine!**

 **xo,**

 **glass27doll**


	3. Defeated

**A/N: Thanks for the follows/favorites! I know things are moving pretty slow right now, but once I get through the first five episodes, you'll all see ;)**

 **Send me some reviews/critiques/suggestions, I'd love to read them! Oh, and if you want to discuss S7 in general, PM me… I have no one else to talk to about it!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own any of the TVD characters/plotlines/dialogue. I only own the Suttons and their storylines.**

* * *

 **Chapter 3**

Defeated

 **Mystic Falls 1864**

 _Visiting Rebecca Sutton was the worst choice this new Damon could make, considering his bloodlust and heightened impulsivity, but… How could he abandon the people he considered family?_

 _With his parents dead and Stefan being undead with him, Damon only had the Suttons. The Salvatores and the Suttons were nearly family. Giuseppe Salvatore and George Sutton treated each other like brothers, and Lily Salvatore and Florence Sutton learned to be mothers from one another; when Lily died, Florence paid extra attention to the Salvatore boys. The older Sutton girls, Abigail and Julia, watched over all of the children as their parents went to Council meetings; Ezekiel, though a year younger than Damon, had become his best friend; even the two youngest, Samuel and Charlotte, had embedded their sweet faces into his memory forever._

 _Damon did not visit Abigail or Julia, knowing their husbands probably knew about vampires and would not hesitate to kill him. He did not visit Sammy or Lottie, for they were too young to understand. But the other two Sutton children were his closest friends, and he couldn't turn his back on their years of friendship. He had already seen Ezekiel, finding the human, as he was gathering firewood in the setting sun's pink hues; he explained everything without taking a breath, hugged his lifelong friend tearfully, and compelled him to forget everything._

 _Perhaps he was being selfish, wanting one final, durable memory of Rebecca and their twisted friendship. The couple held a bond that he never considered putting into words—he did not_ love _her, but their relationship was still more complicated than any other relationship he had ever had with a woman. He convinced himself he owed it to both her and himself._

 _Damon had not been to the Sutton house since his return from the war, but the only difference he saw was the chipping paint. He could hear almost everyone's deep sleep… all but one. Rebecca had once told him, since they spent many nights running around the town, she had learned to survive with little sleep and woke the same time every night. Feeling childish, Damon picked up a handful of stones from the road and stood under Rebecca's window. With heavy concentration, he tossed them, trying to keep the pitches at a human-like strength._

 _It took five stones for Rebecca to open the window, but she did not throw down the rope of sheets or peek down at him. He finally gathered his racing thoughts and decided to jump into her room—something his mind was unused to, but his new vampire body understood well. Once inside, his eyes adjusted immediately; the smaller bed by the door was unoccupied, but Rebecca sat on her bed with widened eyes as she studied Damon with awe._

 _They stood in silence, unmoving. Damon immediately regretted his impulse act. He gave her a longing look, deciding to jump out of the room, but then, she spoke._

" _I never believed in angels, but…" Her voice caught as she stood, chiseling a crevice into Damon's undead heart. "Thank God for sending you here."_

 _Damon did not have the courage to tell her otherwise. He could see the fire Rebecca once harbored had been extinguished… but his very presence caused embers to glow._

" _Do not be afraid," he whispered, quoting the frequently used line by angels in the Bible. To a human, she was still, but to Damon, he saw her jolt at his voice and the tears threatening to pour from her widened eyes. "And do not cry." His voice was soft as he raised a hand to her face; immediately, she leaned her cheek into his palm, as she always did. Unable to stop, her body quivered with suppressed sorrow._

" _Is it really you?"_

" _It is really me."_

" _I didn't think you would make it to the status of the cherub," she commented with a coy smile. Both chuckled, but Damon felt her tears against his hand. "Why are you here?"_

" _To say goodbye," Damon whispered. "You shall never see me again."_

" _Could you not visit me?" Her voice was a squeak under her breath, trying to keep herself from openly weeping. Even in the presence of an "angel", Rebecca Sutton held to her pride like it was her salvation._

" _I am sorry, darling," he sighed, pulling her into an embrace. Her face buried into his neck; her cries filled his ears, and her body trembled. "I'm afraid… I'm afraid that's not how it works."_

" _How would you know?" she accused immediately through her thick tears. "You've only been dead for a few months!"_

" _Rebecca," he said with great effort. He pulled her body away from his gently. She stared at him defiantly, her face red and blotchy. "I need you to move on. I know our relations were… strange and complicated, but…"_

" _Oh, heavens, Damon, did you come to tell me you_ love _me?" Rebecca teased with a small smile on her face as she rubbed her face clear. Both knew the severity of the conversation, but Damon was eternally grateful for who Rebecca was. "I hadn't known death made you a_ woman _. If so, you may simply fly away."_

" _You know I love you," Damon teased back. "Like I love your brothers and sisters, like I love my own brother."_

" _So you've lain with your own brother?" Rebecca said, pretending to be appalled. "It is a good thing you are dead; otherwise, Giuseppe would surely kill you."_

" _Is there an ounce of seriousness in your body, Beck?" Damon whispered through a smile. She smiled back sweetly, studying his face. Like Damon, she seemed to want one good, last memory of him. "I know you'll miss me, and no one could compare," he joked with a smirk but quickly switched to urgency, "but I need for you to marry and have a family, and be happy."_

" _A husband and offspring could not make me happy," Rebecca countered. Watching his disappointment, she sighed, "But I could do this for you." She paused to hug him again tightly. "I wish you did not have to leave."_

" _I am_ dead _." It was the first time he had said it aloud. "I am dead, and you are so beautifully alive."_

" _Yet, I_ feel _dead, Damon." She pulled away, lowering her head. "You and Stefan were part of my heart."_

" _Please, promise me, Rebecca…" Damon hooked a finger under her chin to raise it. Her honey eyes met his blue ones. "Please, Rebecca, try to find happiness. Even if it is only one thing; I want you to be happy, every day, for all of your days."_

" _What a grand task," she smiled weakly. He saw grief threaten to take over again. Her hands captured his with intent. "Every day, I promise to find one reason to be happy."_

" _Thank you, Beck."_

 _Damon sighed with relief but was cut short by Rebecca's urgent mouth pressed to his. The two had kissed before, the main reason for their complicated relationship, but this was different. This wasn't exploratory or experimental. It wasn't hormonally or anger driven. It was a passionate and sweet kiss—only to be described as a loving kiss._

" _You are lucky I love you, Salvatore," she breathed against his mouth. He smiled, kissing her own smiling mouth again._

* * *

Watching his step as he marched through the forest terrain, Damon's mind wandered back to his conversation with his younger brother about their human lives. Bringing up the Suttons was uncharacteristically random of Stefan, but Damon saw the connection Stefan had made. Damon's twisted friendship with Rebecca had been similar to how he related to Elena.

Damon shook his head, internally groaning at his brother's ability to mess with his thoughts with just one seed of a memory. He knocked on the front door, only to be greeted by his former best friend, Enzo. They both stood, sizing each other up with wild eyes before Damon smiled sourly.

"Hello old friend," he said with a twinge of his Southern accent. Talk of the Suttons brought him back to his innate ways.

"You'll have to excuse me for not responding to that particular term of endearment," Enzo replied snidely. "May I help you?"

"Actually, you can," Damon said, bouncing on the heels of his feet eagerly. Enzo didn't know the seal had been broken, and Damon couldn't wait to use that to his advantage. "I don't know if you know this, _but_ , Lily kidnapped Caroline. Not very cool. So, I know we've had our issues, but I _also_ know you're not like Lily's crazy-tics. So, I was thinking… help me get her back?"

"That'd be foolish of me," Enzo commented darkly, "considering I'm the one who kidnapped her."

"Wow, I never thought I'd see the day you'd _choose_ to be Lily's errand boy, but—"

"I have chosen you and your friends," Enzo interrupted with a boiling wrath, "many times, and many times, you and your friends chose each other over me. Let's just say Lily and I have similar views on _loyalty_."

"You know, she abandoned her entire family once," Damon shot. "Who's to say she won't do it again?"

"She didn't abandon her family," Enzo returned with equal force. "She merely abandoned her relatives. There is a difference."

"Yeah," Damon replied. Tired of keeping up the charade, Damon passed the threshold, to Enzo's muted surprise. "One is a permanent blood tie, a name, a legacy."

"Well, in her eyes, Malcolm was more of a _Salvatore_ than you ever were," Enzo baited. "Why else would she bury him in the family crypt? Right next to Elena?"

Damon leaned closer to Enzo with malice in his eyes, like he was telling Enzo a secret that would ruin every plan of the Heretics. "That crypt is sealed _shut_."

"Oh, right." Damon noted Enzo's feigned realization. "Oh, well, it's a pretty good thing she's mother bear to a group of _magic siphoners_."

Damon's confidence drained right out of his expression immediately as he put Enzo's words together.

* * *

As Caroline slipped back into consciousness, she heard the heavier footsteps in the room. She opened her eyes, hoping it was Enzo and not the other Heretic, Beau, but to her surprise, it was Stefan.

"Stefan…? Is that you or am I hallucinating…?"

"What did they do to you?" Stefan breathed as he eyed the contraption and Caroline's bloodied blouse. Caroline groaned, her head hanging and her arms aching.

"You mean before or after the gallon of vervain they injected me with?"

"I'm going to get you out of here… just hang on."

Weakly smiling at Stefan's heroic tone, she sighed, "Already doing that." The Heretics had switched her vervain-soaked ropes for chains, after they had drugged her, so it took some force for Stefan to snap the chains. Caroline crumpled to the floor, and Stefan rushed to her side.

"Looks like I'm going to have to swoop you up and carry you out of here," Stefan teased, eliciting a frail giggle from the blonde.

"Well, the feminist in me says no, but…"

Caroline smiled, thinking the opposite; she was glad Stefan was there to save her, even though her brain told her she could have and should have saved herself. Stefan chuckled, reaching around her gingerly, trying not to hurt her, but it was her who hurt him. His hand, intended to cradle her, burned the moment he gripped her skin, and he retracted it with a groan. They shared a worried look. He tested his fingertips against her shoulder gently, and, again, his skin sizzled.

"It's like your skin is vervain," he mused.

"Valerie's spell," Caroline muttered to herself, adding up the day's hazy events in her head.

* * *

Damon carelessly sped through the forest, hoping to catch his mother and her new family trying to get into the crypt; though he knew it was unlikely, he hoped they were fruitlessly admitting to siphon the spell. When he neared, he slowed down to creep closer to the location.

"Hello?" he called out while he glanced around, prepared for sneak attacks, "Anybody burying somebody nobody cares about?"

His weak joke faltered as he caught sight of the family crypt. His throat closed as he took the destroyed gates and the empty crypt. Elena's coffin was gone. He flashed into the crypt and saw more damage and emptiness in the one place they had decided would be a safe haven for their comatose friend.

"No, no, no, no…" he repeated, getting worked up as the panic and anger set in. His whole body felt like it was on fire with rage, yet there was a hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach. He effortlessly threw a wooden bench across the room in complete despair.

"You always threw the worst tantrums."

Damon turned around with wildly wide eyes to see his poised mother leaning against the doorway of the crypt. Still in her mourning dress, she watched her biological son's frenzy with her hands folded on her lap.

"Where is she?" Damon demanded, panting only out of pure rage.

"That's the fun of cloaking spells, Damon." His mother shrugged casually. "She could be right next to you… or she could be a million miles away. And I am the only one who knows where she is."

Lily's words grated his heart; his heart was shredding into ribbons, clearly displayed by his contorted expression.

"You want to punish me for what I did? Fine! Do it!" He stepped closer, spreading his arms to offer himself. "Punish me. Torture me. _Kill_ me for all I care, but leave Elena out of this." His words were delivered as a threat, but they had no effect on Lily.

"Do you remember when you broke my grandmother's vase?" Lily started suddenly. Her voice was icy but unnervingly conversational. As though her son wasn't battling the urge to rip her throat out.

"What?"

Lily disregarded his confusion and continued, "You were young, ten maybe. You denied it. Even when your father made you a cut a switch from the yard, even when he beat you with it until you were bloody. Still, you denied it vehemently."

Damon studied the woman who birthed him with incredulity. What could this story possibly have to do with their current situation? He angrily turned away from her, disgusted by her sudden urge to talk about the past.

"You were sitting there, playing with your little toy soldiers, bloody and bruised," she mused. "So I switched tactics. The next morning when you woke, your room was bare—no toy soldiers, no toys at all. And you cried and cried… admitted everything."

Damon took a step forward, connecting her story and their dilemma now, but his advance wasn't rage fueled. It was confused and broken, like a boy looking for his mother's comfort. He stopped to study Lily's passive expression—could she really be this cold. "She's not a toy soldier," he managed to utter.

"And Malcolm was not a vase." Her voice was hardened as she turned away from her blue-eyed boy.

As she retreated, Damon impulsively followed her, only to be confronted by her and her Heretics, standing their ground, anticipating his actions. What he would have done, he didn't know and wouldn't get the chance to know.

"Malcolm was a vital part of this family," Lily declared. "He meant something to each one of us."

"He found me on the streets." The blonde Heretic, Mary Louise, spoke up; she glared at Damon, probably ready to cast a fatal spell if he dared move. "He was kind to me, something I hadn't felt in years. He is the one who convinced me to meet with Lily."

"My family wanted me dead," the brunette, Nora, continued. Her eyes lowered at her dark memories. "Malcolm made sure they did not succeed."

"I hadn't seen Beau in a decade," the last female, Valerie, followed, glancing back at the last man in the group. "Malcolm reunited us."

"He was my sounding board," Lily said, her voice shaking with both sorrow and anger, "my confidant, my eldest son. Ironic that you took him from me."

Damon frowned deeply, pushing his jealousy out of his mind and heart, and rolled his eyes with disgust at his next words. "All right, he grumbled. "Tell me what you want."

* * *

"One was torturing me," Caroline explained to Stefan as he rooted around his room for something. The vervain was still working its way through her bloodstream, so she was out of breath from just talking. "The other one said she would help… I just thought it would only burn them."

"It's all right," Stefan responded calmly, returning with one his jackets. "When we get out of here, we'll call Bonnie. There has to be a way to get rid of this. As for now," he said, carefully slipping the jacket over her bare arms, "we just need to avoid skin-to-skin contact." Throwing her a teasing look, he mentioned, "I know it's gonna be extra hard for you."

Caroline laughed at his feebly offered joke. Stefan was one of the sweetest guys to like her, and he was the most patient ones, to wait for her to gather her emotions and thoughts. When she told him that his presence was the only happiness she felt these days, she hadn't been lying. When she kissed him hotly, she wasn't just toying with him. As much as she wanted to fully give herself over to him, there was just something to keep her from moving forward.

"I'm going to call Damon, and tell him that we're ready," Stefan said, pulling her from her thoughts.

Wait, as _that_ what was pulling her? Caroline frowned, a strange sensation flowing through her body; she felt like something inside of her was expanding, threatening to make her explode; it felt like something was tugging at her very skin.

"Stefan…? Do you feel that?"

The blond Salvatore frowned, clearly affected, and muttered, "What's happening?"

"I don't know… I feel like every molecule in my body is being pulled."

Before he could offer a response, Stefan's body flew out of the house, through the glass wall behind him. Caroline screamed at his sudden departure, calling his name as her own body was pulled in the opposite direction. She tried to grip the doorpost of his room as she pulled through the house. She tried to take hold of anything to keep her from being expelled through the stairs, through the foyer, out of the house.

"Okay, invite her in," she heard Enzo's deep voice command.

"Caroline, please come in," she heard a hollowly sweet voice comply.

The tugging stopped, and Caroline's body fell, crumpled at the foot of the stairs. She glared at the vampire that granted the relief from her agony; he just squared his jaw.

"Sorry, love."

* * *

As Matt unlocked his car, Bonnie's stare drilled into his skull with incredulity. The Phoenix Stone's visions plagued her, causing her to lose consciousness, and she almost let Matt stay dead within seconds of permanent brain damage. Guilt consumed her.

"I think we should go to the hospital just in case," she urged as the two slid into the seats of Matt's police car.

"And say what?" Matt challenged. He had every right to be angry with her. She had yet to tell him why it took so long to revive him, but she didn't want to excuse almost killing one of her closest and long-termed best friends. " 'My friend used magic to stop my heart for six minutes—how's my brain?'"

"Matt, I am _so_ sorry,' Bonnie pleaded. "I just got hit with these _visions_ —"

"This is not your fault," Matt interrupted, not even recognizing her confession. He clenched his jaw before vehemently stating, "This is all happening because of Damon."

"That's the thing, Matt. It's…" Bonnie pursed her lips for a moment, lowering her eyes. "It's not."

"What?"

"What you had said to me, yesterday? You were right—the Heretics _are_ here because of me," Bonnie shrugged, barely glancing at Matt's guilty face; she was converged with her own blame. "And when I saw our town, our home like this…?" Fire took over Bonnie's speech, as she finally declared, "I helped Damon kill Malcolm."

Matt turned away from her, trying to piece her words together; he looked ashamed of her actions, but Bonnie knew what she did was the right thing. Being in the prison world, Bonnie had found a strength that she had only called upon a few times since she had become a witch; she found a fight in her that she was unwilling to give up.

"When I found out they took Caroline, it was _my_ idea to stop your heart." Her confession made Matt rub a hand over his face. "I _refuse_ to stand by and let them do whatever they want."

"I drive up and down these streets every day," Matt began, gripping the wheel of the unmoving vehicle with whitened knuckles. "Streets that, for my entire life, were filled with people, families, kids… and now? Now, I pray that I see _empty_ parks and _empty_ playgrounds. I pray that I don't see a single _soul_ , and I _hate_ that." Bonnie could see Matt's arms shaking with the anger he had been harboring. No one checked on Matt Donovan, to see how their only non-supernatural friend was doing; she realized Matt didn't really have anyone since Elena was gone. She made an internal vow to fix that. "I hate them," he finally said, once he found some composure.

"Then why don't we stop fighting and do something about it?" Matt looked at her face, seeing both darkness and determination filling her eyes.

* * *

Once expelled from his own house, Stefan spent nearly an hour pulling shards of glass and pieces of wood from his body. His favorite shirt was ruined. He was covered in a layer of dirt, and his hair even sported some twigs and leaves. But he didn't care. Caroline was still in the hands of their current enemy, and if Damon hadn't disappeared and hadn't stopped distracting Enzo, Stefan could have easily saved the girl of his affections. He walked through the darkening forest, feeling his own emotions fall away from optimism as well.

When he set foot into the Lockwood mansion, he heard the light _clink_ of ice cubes in a glass, knowing his brother was selfishly guzzling himself into a stupor. He entered the study with clenched fists, but he delivered his words evenly.

"You left." Damon leaned against the mantle of the fireplace, gripping his glass of bourbon, glaring into the fire. "I could have gotten her back, but you left."

Damon didn't respond. Stefan's mind reeled. He tried to be civil; he tried to put their miserable past behind them. But Damon did what Damon always does—whatever he wanted. He took whatever he wanted, and it always seemed the very thing Damon always wanted was to crush Stefan's happiness. Damon's lack of response just threw Stefan into rage.

"What, no comeback?" Stefan taunted, his eyes narrowing. "No funny reason?"

Damon's face remained unchanged at Stefan goading, causing Stefan's low simmering wrath to elevate. He used his supernatural strength to shove his brother across the room, against the opposing wall; the wall shook, along with the painting adorning it, but Damon barely looked fazed.

"Answer me!" Stefan glowered.

"Better get it out while you still can, Brother." Though his chin was lifting to taunt his brother, Stefan heard the underlying pain. A bitter smile snaked across the dark-haired brother. "I'm not going to be here much longer."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Stefan demanded, not wanting to let his anger go just yet. "Where are you going?" His humanity getting the better part of him, he released his brother from being pinned against the wall, and Damon strolled back to the mantle again.

"I believe Lily's exact words were, 'As far from Mystic Falls as humanly possible'." With his signature sarcasm, Damon commented, "Now, I'm no 'Google Maps', but I'm thinking that's pretty far away." He took a gulp from his glass.

Stefan's eyebrows pinched down, glaring at his brother. Damon was quick to lie, to save his own skin, but there was a wounded tone lurking under his usual sarcasm. If that were the case, their mother was more of a monster than Stefan had credited her. Damon finished his glass and gave a weak sigh.

"She has Elena." Damon glanced at his brother's brooding contemplation. "She's making me leave town, for good."

* * *

 **Mystic Falls 1856**

" _Stop your crying," Damon ordered his younger brother, though it was his heart pleading._

 _They had been through this for years, yet Stefan's heart still broke at the sight of his bare room and the weight of their mother's disappointment. The fifteen year old stood in the doorway of Stefan's room with crossed arms; he was tired of his mother sending his father to beat him and to further be punished with an empty room and a crying brother. Stefan saw his brother's squared jaw and silenced his loud sobs._

" _You cannot cry every time Mother punishes you." With a darker tone, Damon added, "You would forever be in tears."_

" _She did not punish me!" Stefan declared defensively. His voice cracked from his previous wailing. "She punished you—you were the one who disrespected Mr. Sutton."_

" _Mr. Sutton deserved it!" Damon shot back. His anger bubbled up quickly, a trait he seemed to inherit from his father. "That bastard."_

" _Damon!"_

" _Would you keep your voice down," Damon chastised, adding, "lest you want your toys to sit in her room for another day." Stefan's eyes widened with fear and remorse. "Do you not understand? If we work together, we can get your toys back."_

" _If you hadn't been so rude, I would still have them."_

" _Stefan, please…!" Damon caught the anger building in him again and consciously stifled it. With a softened voice, he allowed, "I am sorry, Stefan. Truly."_

" _I forgive you," the nine year old mumbled. Damon sighed, studying his red-faced brother. Of course he would be forgiven; Stefan idolized him, and Damon knew it well enough to play on it. "Do you think Mother will forgive you?"_

" _I do not look for forgiveness," Damon stated firmly, "for I did nothing wrong."_

" _Damon," Stefan whined. The older brother rolled his eyes. If only Stefan knew what kind of man George Sutton was… but, perhaps, it was better he didn't. "Damon, without your apology, Mother won't let us see Ezekiel or Rebecca or Samuel…"_

" _We could always see them later," Damon whispered, the idea sparking in his head as he spoke. "Sneak into the night and go to their house."_

" _Damon, we cannot! What if we get caught?"_

" _Then… we don't get caught," Damon smiled deviously. "Mother thinks she can imprison us? We are Salvatores!"_

" _Damon Salvatore, are you out of your room?"_

" _Stay strong, Brother." Damon gave his brother a playful grin, coupled with silly bouncing eyebrows, before rushing back to his own room._

* * *

 **Reviews, in return for "I love you's"?**

 **xo,**

 **glass27doll**


	4. No Mary Sue

**A/N: What? A bonus chapter? Surprise! Since it's Thanksgiving, and I'm a little ahead on writing chapters, so I decided to share this chapter too. Just kidding, I was** ** _wayyy_** **too excited to share this chapter right now!**

 **Happy Thanksgiving to all of my American friends, and have a lovely weekend to all!**

 **Send me some reviews/critiques/suggestions, I'd love to read them! If you want to talk about S7 in general, PM me please…!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own any of the TVD characters/plotlines/dialogue. I only own the Suttons and their storylines.**

* * *

 **Chapter 4**

No Mary Sue

"If the roles were reversed, what would you have done?" Damon's voice was nearly a whisper as he watched the flames travel up into the air before dissipating.

Damon was like fire. Elena had been his firewood—she anchored him and give him a reason to burn. For as long as she lived, she would continue to fuel his life; he would drink the cure from her blood, and he would let his fire simmer down as their lives dwindled to a mortal end. But without her… Damon was wild in an arid environment. He destroyed everything in his path, scorching any and all. He could feel himself slipping into a perilous frenzy as his eyes absorbed the flicking light of the fire.

"She has Caroline. She has Elena. She has our house." Stefan drained the glass he had just poured for himself; Damon knew Stefan was like fire too. The only difference between the two brothers was how much it took to trigger an explosion. "She has the whole damn town!" Stefan threw his glass against the wall to punctuate his list.

"She has all of our toys," Damon concluded, thinking of his conversation with his mother.

After she had told him the story, he spent the day thinking about the past. In the beginning, what she had said was true—he cried and confessed—but as he got older, he became better at lying and learned how to skirt the punishments' severity.

"Stefan, whenever I did anything wrong as a kid, she took my toys," Damon continued, "but she also took yours. All of them. And you'd cry like a little baby. I'd do anything, _anything_ she wanted, just to shut you up." Realization filled Damon's eyes as he looked at his brother. "This is her plan. She's slowly taking away everything we care about. She _wants_ us to be mad at each other."

"You're right," Stefan muttered. "You and I fight…"

"While her and her family of freaks live in our house, getting closer and closer," Damon completed with a sneer. He took a gulp of his drink. Times like this, he almost wished alcohol had its burn.

"Fine," Stefan declared, "we don't let her fracture us."

"Or… we do." Despite the fire, Damon's eyes lit with his own brilliance. "You complain to Lily about your worthless brother that left town, all the while I'm doing a little fracturing of my own."

Stefan frowned, eyeing his brother's sudden change of heart. "How are you going to do that?" Stefan was being cautious, but Damon knew his brother's curiosity was piqued.

"There were four Heretics at the funeral—dead Malcolm makes five," Damon said quickly, his excitement getting the best of him. "But in 1903, there were six—which means there is one more, and I'm going to find him, and I'm going to negotiate a trade."

Stefan mulled over Damon's words intently. Though Stefan took more time to devise a plan, Damon's quickly assembled ideas were usually a sturdy structure until Stefan could add his well-thought advice.

"We're going to get them both back," Damon enthused.

"Where are you going to stay in the meanwhile?" Stefan inquired. Damon gave a small smirk, grateful for his brother's unquestioning willingness.

"I am a big boy, now, Stef," Damon remarked sarcastically. "I can take care of myself."

The older brother walked into the master bedroom, the room he declared was rightfully his since he and Carol Lockwood had had a fling. As he began to pack the few belongings he had brought, his mind, had already wandered into the future. He would probably rent a hotel room and cover the walls with information about the missing Heretic. It would be just as he did when he tracked Stefan the summer Klaus pushed him to become a Ripper.

Stefan crossed his arms and watched Damon shove things into his duffel bag. "Oh, I believe that, but—"

"Look, I know you're lonely without your Barbie," Damon cut in with a bitter tone and a malicious smirk. "But please, Brother, don't be so clingy. It is unbecoming of you. And so transparent."

"Transparent?" Stefan echoed with an incredulous scoff. "Yes, I transparently care if you'll drain a whole town of life as a 'coping mechanism'," Stefan shot. Damon paused to theatrically tap his chin like he was considering it. Stefan rolled his eyes and threw his hands up in defeat. "Fine, Damon, push me away, instead of sharing your feelings."

"Okay, first of all, I share nothing," Damon responded immediately. "Secondly, you know I don't dabble with _feelings_."

"You should stay with Bonnie," Stefan offered hastily. Damon raised a brow. "You could use Caroline's bed or El—"

"I'm out," Damon interrupted. He couldn't bear to stay in Elena's dormitory bed. He hadn't been able to stay in his own bed, in the boarding house, which was why his Europe trip was a great distraction. "I promise to write and send many pictures."

"Just get out," Stefan said, trying to suppress his amusement. He nudged his brother, reminding him, "Text me when you find out something. I'll keep Mom distracted."

"Give Lily my _warmest_ regards."

* * *

Knowing she had almost given Matt brain damage for nothing made Bonnie numb. After she received Stefan's disheartening text message about the situation, she went through the motions of getting ready for bed. She showered, brushed her teeth, and lied in her bed, staring at her ceiling. She couldn't fall asleep, fearing the guilt-filled nightmares she _knew_ she'd have.

Her cell phone vibrated on the nightstand, and she answered it blindly. She grumbled a greeting, covering her eyes with a hand.

"Hey, it's Stefan." His voice caused her to immediately sit up, glaring at her sheet like it was the younger Salvatore.

"Did you get her?" she demanded.

"I…" Stefan paused. It was enough of an answer. Bonnie mentally bashed herself for being so hopeful. "I'm so sorry, Bonnie. I didn't mean to get your hopes up like that."

"It's…" It was _not_ okay, and she had to get used to saying admitting that. Bonnie sighed. "What's up?"

"Lily has Elena," he explained bluntly.

Bonnie's whole body became rigid at his words. She was almost ready to throw on some clothes, storm into the Salvatore board house, and destroy every vampire in the house. This _creature_ came into _her_ hometown, took _her_ two childhood best friends, and destroyed the lives of her other friends? No. Lily Salvatore had no plausible grounds to do anything of those things—she lost the right to punish her sons when she declared they were no longer her children.

"Damon has a plan to get her back." Stefan sounded hopeful through the phone; Bonnie wondered if his eyes told the same story. "But Lily made him leave Mystic Falls. He should be at your dorm in a few minutes."

"Why here?"

"Well, you two did live together for four months," Stefan offered as a joke, but the 1994 prison world wasn't a place to joke about. Despite growing closer with Damon, everything about being dead there was terrible. Noticing the tension, Stefan sighed, admitting, "You're good for him right now. He's…fragile."

"There is nothing fragile about Damon Salvatore," Bonnie countered quietly. "But, I understand. Thanks for the heads up."

"I knew _he_ wouldn't give you one- though you deserve it." He paused. "Thanks, Bonnie. I'll call you as soon as I get Caroline out from my mother's grasp."

I'll talk to you soon," she muttered. She set her phone back on the nightstand and covered her face with her trembling hands. Why did her life get this hellish?

Hell.

Her mind reeled back to earlier in the day, as it had been for the past couple of hours. Every time, she had focused on her lack of Caroline and her intense guilt for temporarily killing Matt, but she was overlooking the deeper problem, the bigger picture.

She quickly dialed a number and held the phone to her ear with anticipation. As she waited, she remembered the visions that caused her to pass out, and her whole body shuddered at the images that had flashed before her eyes. It had to be hell.

"Hello?"

"Alaric." She had a sneaking suspicious he would confess to the last thing she wanted to hear at the moment, so her greeting wasn't as polite or cheery as it usually was. "Did it work? Is the stone gone?" she urged.

"Yeah…" Alaric's sigh was defeated, but Bonnie couldn't help but to relish in the relief that washed over her. She actually smiled, almost laughed. She would be able to sleep a little better tonight. "Hello hydrochloric acid… good bye Phoenix Stone."

"Good—" There was a knock on her door, making her jump a little and stare at it, like she could ascertain who was behind it. "All right, see you in class tomorrow. Good night."

Without waiting for a reply, Bonnie hung up and neared the door cautiously. She readied herself to choke an intruder with magic. Standing in before the door in her big t-shirt and pajama shorts, she answered the door cautiously.

On the other side of the door, Damon was leaning against the doorpost, with a bourbon bottle in hand and a grin on his well-sculpted face. For a moment, Bonnie's heart slammed against her chest. Damon was, undoubtedly, a beautiful man—he wore a snug black t-shirt with his signature leather jacket tossed over it, and his dark hair was tousled.

"Bon-Bon," he muttered through a smirk. He probably heard her rushed blood. She blushed at his accusing gaze. He smugly inquired, "Happy to see me?"

"It's always a pleasure," she replied easily, recovering quickly and allowing him into the room. "Though, it would be better if you weren't completely wasted."

"I take it Stefan called." He dropped his duffel bag on the floor and plopped down on her bed, taking a swig from the glass bottle. She knew he wouldn't even look at Elena's perfectly made bed. "He's always so protective of his big brother."

"Damon, if you're staying with me, you need to lay the bottle to rest." Bonnie crossed her arms across her chest. His blue eyes narrowed, daring her.

"Make me," he taunted, deliberately taking another deep gulp.

"Don't behave like I can't," she shot back. She was tempted to make the bottle explore, but it would just make more of a mess for her, on her own bed.

"Oh, please, Judgey, just let me have this." His plead was in false sincerity. "It's probably the only thing I have left."

His playful tone quickly morphed, revealing his wounded heart. Bonnie sighed, sitting on the edge of her bed, studying her vampire friend's sharp features. He raised a brow to her, challenging her as he took another sip, but she kept her expression and voice as soft as she could.

"Damon, I'm… I'm sorry." This caught him off guard. Bonnie lowered her eyes. "I am sorry. This really is entirely my fault."

Minutes passed as Damon looked at Bonnie intensely. She was completely vulnerable before him, but he opted to stay quiet. It made her nervous because Damon was never at a loss for words. Without warning, he used his vampire speed to shoulder his duffel bag and stand at the door. He gave Bonnie the saddest look she had ever seen on his face—including his hopeless phase during 1994.

"This was a mistake," he whispered. "I can't look at you without thinking about her."

Before she could urge him otherwise, he was gone and Bonnie could feel the ghostly pressure of his lips to her forehead.

* * *

"Oh… I thought you were in your room." Sue walked out of Alaric's guest room in tight shorts and a revealing tank top. Alaric's eyes lingered a little longer than they should have, but he averted his eyes respectfully, to stare at his phone. She had known he was still awake, overhearing his conversation on the phone, but she thought he had retired to his room.

"No… I'm still here," he replied with a deep sigh. He refused to lift his eyes, making Sue shift awkwardly. She usually reveled in the attention of attractive men, but the widower was still so in love with his fiancé, she felt guilty.

"Um, can I borrow some clothes?" she asked suddenly. "Because these are the only kind of clothes I have, for around the house."

Alaric nodded, excusing himself without lifting his eyes from the wooden floors. He seemed relieved, probably because she wouldn't be walking around indecently.

"I was going to make some tea. Do you want a cup?" she asked from the kitchen. She heard his distracted affirmative response and managed to find the electric kettle wedged in a corner of one of his cupboards. To her, it was pure therapy to listen to the water boil, to watch the tea seep into the water, to let the aroma fill her senses.

"These were the only things I thought would fit you." She turned to see Alaric holding a pile of folded clothes; her mind wound back to her human years for a moment. She smiled gratefully, though Alaric was staring at their feet, and she walked away to change. "Thank you," he called through the half-closed door.

"I didn't realize how wildly inappropriate my wardrobe was," she joked. She walked out of the room, laughing at herself swimming in his clothes; she doubled knotted the sweatpants falling low on her hips, and she knotted the bottom of the t-shirt, so a thin line of her stomach showed. "These clothes are so baggy."

"The baggier the better," Alaric managed to say through his laughter.

The kettle whistled, and Sue busied herself with making the only tea Alaric had in his apartment. It was a generic brand of a plain black tea, but it would be good enough for her. There was a knock at the door, to which she adjusted her ears to hear as Alaric answered it.

"Are you drunk?" she heard Alaric asked incredulously.

"Only a little bit," the visitor replied smugly. Sue smiled a little to herself as she stirred the sugar in.

"What are you doing here?"

"Well, is that _any_ way to greet your _best_ friend?" the other male voice asked sarcastically. Sue raised a brow as she steeped Alaric's tea. The deep voice was distantly familiar. When a silence fell between the two men, the visitor elaborated darkly, "I need a place to stay. Mommy dearest banished me from my hometown."

"She _banished_ you?" Alaric asked incredulously. Sue didn't hear the man walk into the apartment, nor did she hear Alaric's familiar footsteps, so she assumed they were still at the door. Was Alaric embarrassed to have her in his apartment?

"Yeah, she has Elena and wouldn't negotiate anything if I was still in Mystic Falls," the man muttered offhandedly. Sue's eyes widened at the name of her hometown; it was where she wanted to be, but there was some sort of quarantine, so she had opted for Whitmore's college town. With a hushed, incredulous voice, the visitor suddenly asked, "Do you have a _woman_ in your apartment?"

Making up her mind to face the visitor, Sue turned with Alaric's tea in her hands, concentrating on not spilling it as she walked forward.

"No, it's not like—"

"Alaric, here's your…"

Sue lifted her eyes away from the swinging tea and stopped. Alaric stood protectively at the door, with a hand still on the door and his body blocking the doorway, but the man at the door stared at her with large eyes. Intense blue eyes. Dark, disheveled hair. A black t-shirt, a leather jacket, a pair of well-fit jeans, boots. Sue's eyes traveled over the man with shock; his eyes seemed to do the same to her.

"Damon…?" she breathed.

Without effort, the dark-haired man pushed Alaric aside and walked into the apartment carefully, keeping a safe distance from her. His eyes were wild with curiosity.

"I see you haven't stopped wearing men's clothes."

"I see you still don't know when to cut your hair," she responded automatically, her voice void of emotion. It felt like the air was pried from her lungs.

"Am I missing something?" Alaric interrupted their staring contest. His voice was hardened as he stood between his visitor and his temporary roommate; his look was demanding. "Sue?" he prompted.

"Sue?" Damon scoffed, accompanied by a deep laugh. "Oh, this is no Mary Sue, Ric. I'm afraid you've been compelled, my friend." Damon smirked, though his eyes never left the blonde. Sue lowered her eyes, biting back a smile.

Without hesitation, Alaric reached under the sofa to produce a wooden stake, and threw it with great precision at Sue's chest. Sue caught it without flinching and suddenly had Alaric by the throat.

"You _do_ want me to compel you to remember, right?" She breathed the threatening question against his face with narrowed eyes. After a long glare, he nodded, and she released him with a stony glare. Her gaze caught his and she said, "Remember everything I compelled you to forget." She turned to Damon with an exasperated sigh. "Why do you pick the most fickle people to become friends with?"

"They're more fun," he winked. After a minute of studying her more, he finally inquired bluntly, "So, why aren't you dead?"

She turned to the other vampire with an impish grin, to which he returned without skipping a beat. It was as if centuries hadn't separated them.

"You know, you were always good at that," she mused.

"Good at what?"

"Pretending like you weren't happy to see me."

Damon's smirk reformed into a genuine smile as he received her into his arms. They clung to each other with their supernatural strength, and she buried her face into his neck. She couldn't help to cry, and she knew he would silently pretend her tears didn't soak the collar of his shirt.

"I am _so_ glad you're not actually dead," she murmured against his neck, kissing the skin. She felt him tense, but she delivered one last squeeze before releasing him. Her eyes were watery but otherwise clear of the episode.

"Why did you compel me if I was willing to let you stay?" Alaric asked suddenly, eyeing the blonde. She pursed her lips and lowered her eyes.

"I didn't want you to realize I was lying or what I was," she admitted. "I'm sorry, truly, for taking advantage of you."

"It's what we do," Damon defended simply with a smart smile.

"Who the hell are you?" Alaric demanded, though both vampires could see he was defeated. Like his life was full of moments such as this. Damon laughed, his arm finding its way around her shoulders familiarly.

"Ric, meet my childhood best friend, Rebecca Sutton."

* * *

Rebecca Sutton was alive…

Well, she was a vampire.

Damon did not see that coming at all.

After pulling Alaric aside, Damon convinced his friend to allow the other vampire to stay as long as he did. He would protect Alaric if Rebecca had ulterior motives. Alaric was reluctant—he met Rebecca with the pretenses that her name was Sue Beckett, and she was one of his students, heartbroken and homeless—but he finally agreed. He trusted Damon, but he gave him a stoic warning.

"If she gets any blood on her hands, I won't hesitate to take her out."

After that heated conversation, Damon and Rebecca argued about the sleeping arrangement. Damon finally won, taking the couch for the first night; he knew they would cycle through the same debate every night they stayed in Alaric's apartment, but he decided to be the courteous Damon Rebecca was accustomed to.

The three spent the rest of the evening in the living room as the two vampires explained their intertwined childhood to Alaric. Though he was still wary because of Rebecca's well-kept charade, he seemed interested in Damon's mysterious human life. The two relived their midnight adventures and years of shared family gatherings. Oppositely, it seemed like an unspoken agreement to keep their strange, experimental endeavors a secret.

Rebecca offered Damon the leftovers of the meal she had made Alaric, and then, she offered him a cup of tea. She soaked up his presence like she had been deprived of it. And she had. She didn't seem to care or even notice how much his vampire-self differed from his human-self. She still laughed at his snide jokes and even made her own backhanded compliments and dark comments. Alaric seemed battle between liking her and distrusting her.

More than anything, she stared at Damon so attentively, as if he would disappear the moment she took her eyes off him.

Around eleven o'clock, Alaric excused himself for the night. Rebecca offered yet another apology—she had been piling them on since her true identity was revealed—and Damon just nodded toward his best friend. Alone, the two still avoided the deeper issues, like who had turned them, their gruesome transitions, or their dark vampire moments. Instead, they lightly talked about their adventures over the twentieth century.

Damon also watched Rebecca like she was a fabrication of his twisted mind. He spent most of their conversation memorizing her modernized blonde hair, her matured, hollow cheeks, and her eternally sunny eyes.

"Well, let me see it," he had said with a mischievous smile. She arched a brow with a suggestive look in her eyes. "Your vampire face, let me see it."

After a minute, Rebecca's honey eyes were flooded by crimson, and the dark veins traveled down her face; she had bared her fangs at Damon before her face returned to a bashful expression, like it had never happened.

"Do you like being a vampire?" He had studied her contemplating face. He replayed her coy smile and playful reply over in his mind as he fell asleep.

"It certainly has its perks."

It was two o'clock in the morning when Damon heard the front door shut. He had only been asleep for about an hour, the sofa not as comfortable as it looked. He checked the rooms cautiously and listened for any foreign movement. He peered into Alaric's room and sighed at the sight. The man had fallen asleep on his stomach, arm dangling over the edge of the bed and bottle of gin dropped onto the rug. Damon picked up the empty bottle, set it on the nightstand, and tossed a blanket over his friend quickly. He wished someone had been there for him during his many nights of mourning his love.

Next, he stepped into Rebecca's temporary room and frowned. Her bed, though the sheets disheveled, was empty. He rolled his eyes; he didn't want to go find her, but Alaric's warning nagged at his little conscience. He redressed, tugging his jacket on, and wandered onto the empty college campus.

"Now… where would Rebecca Sutton disappear to?" he mumbled to himself.

Half an hour later, he found himself at the epicenter of the campus; like nineteenth century Mystic Falls, the middle of the campus was embellished by a large, stone foundation. He saw Rebecca's silhouette as she stood by the stone fixture with crossed arms. It was wildly different to see her in jeans and cardigan; he had never been able to discern her human figure while she was clothed.

"I hope I didn't wake you." She didn't look away from the flowing water as he stood next to her. She looked tired, but not physically.

"Nah, I always wake up in the middle of the night to take a random stroll," he retorted sarcastically. She gave him a half-hearted smile, beginning to walk away. "But I guess you do, though."

"Since I was fourteen," she chuckled. As they wandered away, she hugged his upper arm, like she used to when they were teenagers. Damon stiffened but didn't pull away. "Or did you forget you were the one who made me like this?"

"Speaking of which…"

"I'm guessing Katherine turned you," she ventured. Damon gave her a curious look. "She had compelled me a couple of times to stay away from you and Stefan."

"She was jealous," Damon scoffed.

"There was nothing to be jealous of." Rebecca watched their steps matched one another. She glanced at him hopefully. "Does that mean Stefan is…?"

"Yes, he is," Damon replied gently. "And, apparently so is my mom… which is another long story."

Rebecca nodded, looking back to the ground. When she felt Damon's eyes on her, she sighed. "I don't know who turned me, so don't ask."

"The Rebecca Sutton I knew never lied to me before," Damon teased lightly. Her lips curved feebly, but she didn't amend her story.

"I was unconscious," she clarified. Her nails bit into his jacket. "I nearly died, but then, suddenly, I was so alive." She laughed a little and gave him a playful look. "Well, not _alive_ , but you know what I mean."

"I'm sorry you had to do it alone." Guilt consumed him, thinking about Rebecca transitioning without guidance or finding out the hard way that sunlight was her enemy. At least he had Stefan.

"I knew about vampires by then," she admitted quietly. Her cold hand slipped down to his, but he made no effort to link their fingers. She sighed. "Who's the girl?"

"What?"

"You may think you've changed monumentally," Rebecca laughed, letting her arm fall away from his, "but you are still the same Damon I have always known. You may pride yourself with the number of notches on your bedpost, but you have _always_ been loyal to the women you really liked."

"Are you _still_ jealous of Hannah Charlestown?" Damon smirked. Rebecca laughed, stopping in the middle of the courtyard they had wandered into.

"I wasn't jealous. Would I have befriended every girl you fancied if I were jealous?"

"Fancied?"

"Hannah Charlestown, Grace Trenton, Elizabeth Wentworth, Mary Hall…" She ignored his jab to her slip into her native dialect. "Need I continue?" He returned the mocking smile Rebecca wore. "I friended them to protect you from the adults' opinion of you. Whenever you were with someone, you hardly even looked at me."

"I haven't seen you in over a century, Beck," Damon countered. "What's to say I just don't _know_ you anymore?"

"Then what was that back at your friend's apartment?" she prompted, standing close to him. Their chests were almost touching as their breathing synced. She tilted her head to study his expression. "We picked up right where we had left off… if there is no girl, then let's pick up right where we had left off…"

"Her name is Elena Gilbert," Damon interrupted, stepping away from Rebecca's incoming lips. Her eyes opened, and she gave him a knowing look. "She was a vampire, and then she took the Cure, and I was going to drink it from her blood, and we were going to live the rest of our stupid, human lives together," he rushed. He had to halt the memories and feelings he had with Rebecca by reminding himself of the love of his life. "But then, some dick witch put her in a magical coma, and now I have to wait another lifetime to see her again."

He felt Rebecca's eyes on him, but he couldn't stop staring at their feet. She was probably shocked, since he had never talked about a woman so passionately, but he could sense there was more to her silence.

"I'm glad you found it," she finally whispered. His eyes met her lit ones. "I'm so glad you found happiness, that you found love." She smiled genuinely, like she always had whenever he had brought up another girl. Had he been so happy when she told him about her teenaged lovers?

"For it to only be ripped away from me," Damon seethed.

"But you have something to look forward to, in this abyss of eternity." Without waiting for consent, Rebecca wrapped her arms around Damon's torso in a platonic hug, resting her cheek on his shoulder. Her presence was confusing, but it was also familiar and comforting. "You can sleep in the bed with me, if you want."

"Think you can keep your hands off of me?" he teased, though he locked her into their embrace. He felt her chest vibrate as she giggled.

"Damon, you're the one who won't let me go."

"I'm just glad you're not dead either, Beck."

* * *

 **Hope you enjoyed it!**

 **Just curious, what would you like to see more of in the upcoming chapters? More Bamon friendship scenes? Steroline? Defan brotherly scenes? Or maybe (my favorite)more flashbacks?**

 **AND what's your OTP for the series? Mine is currently Steroline—their relationship is the closest to reality than the other ones.**

 **xo,**

 **glass27doll**


	5. Resurfaced History

**A/N: Chapter 5! Sorry the story is moving so slowly, but I promise it won't be for naught! I'm trying to capture the characters and their development, as well as weave the Suttons into the story.**

 **Send me some reviews/critiques/suggestions, I'd love to read them! If you want to talk about S7 in general, PM me please…!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own any of the TVD characters/plotlines/dialogue. I only own the Suttons and their storylines.**

* * *

 **Chapter 5**

Resurfaced History

 **Mystic Falls 1857**

 _The summer night engulfed the Salvatore brothers as they walked quickly and silently to the edge of the town. Damon carried a bundle of his clothes, and Stefan hugged three towels to his chest. Both were drenched in sweat by the time they reached her destination, the pale yellow Sutton house, but neither complained._

 _Damon gave Stefan a curt nod, and the eleven year old returned it before obediently running down the road. They had gone through this process for a few months now; Damon would retrieve the Suttons and Stefan would scope the land. The older Salvatore used to wake both Ezekiel and Rebecca, but, over time, Ezekiel declared they were getting too old for midnight adventures. Rebecca and the Salvatores shared a different opinion. Gulping the thick Southern air, Damon picked a handful of rocks from the road and rounded the house; he aimed for the second story window, praying he would only wake her._

 _After two rocks, Damon watched, with baited breath, as the window swung open. Prepared to run, he watched apprehensively until a rope of sheet swung down. He held the knotted bedding still as Rebecca climbed down agilely. Rebecca hopped down, in only her dark blue nightgown and a wild smile that glowed in the moonlight._

 _Damon tried to whisper a smart greeting, but the fifteen year old girl covered his mouth and held a finger to her own lips. He eyed her mouth for a minute before nodding and dutifully handing her the stack of his own clothing. She used to wear Ezekiel's, but she was growing taller than her brother._

 _She tugged the pants over her bare legs, under her dress, and bunched up her nightgown, ready to pull it over her head. Catching Damon's impatient gaze, she rolled her eyes, leaning close._

" _I know the woman's body is quite fascinating to you," Rebecca hissed, "but you need to turn around now."_

 _Damon pursed his lips and turned. The two had practically grown up together, and she had undressed in front of him when they first started sneaking out. However, since then, her body had developed, and the two had started… Damon shook his head, unsure how to define what the two had started._

 _There was a tap on his shoulder. He turned to see Rebecca's back to him, with her hair bunched up on her hands; Damon retrieved the ribbon from his pocket and tied it tightly around her gold locks. When she turned, Damon took in the sight of her fitting awkwardly in his clothes. She gave him a coy smile, and he eyed her as she leaned forward. Hesitantly, she pressed an awkward kiss to his mouth before pulling away suddenly._

" _No, like this." He rested his hands on her waist and kissed her more avidly. She bunched his shirt in her hands for the moment before pushing him away. She caught his hand and tugged him toward the road._

" _Does Stefan know?" she inquired when they were half way to their endpoint. Damon frowned, raking his fingers through his oily hair._

" _What is there to know?" He glanced at Rebecca, hoping he hadn't hurt her feelings, but she gave a small laugh. Damon realized she was still holding his hand._

" _I feel foolish," she admitted. "There are girls who know all of these things through experience… or get advice from their sisters!" She glanced at Damon. "No one is unafraid to just kiss. Why am I so strange?"_

" _You're not strange. You just want to be perfect." Damon shrugged before giving her an impish grin. "Good thing you have Damon Salvatore as a teacher."_

" _God only knows why I trust you." She laughed, pulling her hand from his and sprinting forward. He grinned, following her._

 _They stopped at the lake, at the end of the farming land. Stefan had already stripped down to his undergarments and slipped into the water. The younger Salvatore gave Rebecca a wide smile and waved from the lake. They had to be quiet, considering a house was only a few yards away. She blew him a friendly kiss and began to slip out of her trousers. This time, Damon ignored her and took off all but his undergarments before stepping into the cool lake gratefully. It was the redemption of this terrible summer. As Stefan dunked his head under the surface, Damon turned to see Rebecca covered her breasts with her hands as she tested the water._

" _Don't look," she hissed with scrunched eyebrows. He rolled his eyes and turned away. He felt the water move to accommodate her body. Finally, she said, "Okay, you can turn around."_

" _You're awfully shy for not being so shy at all," Damon commented with a mischievous smile._

 _Before she could respond, she bobbed down for a second and let a yelp out, gripping at Damon's shoulder when she broke the surface again. Stefan, who had been lurking beneath the murky lake water, burst through the water and laughed._

" _Stefan Giuseppe Salvatore," she scolded though a wide smile took over her face. She splashed him, to which he splashed her back, but Damon got caught in the crossfire. It initiated all of them to splash each other, keeping their laughter as low as they could._

* * *

"Have you seen my phone?"

Alaric, who had been eyeing the Phoenix Stone, quickly tucked it in the pocket of his jacket before returning to the book he was reading. Just out of the shower, Damon strolled into the living room only in his damp towel. A man with a mission, the vampire rooted around for his misplaced cell phone. Alaric rolled his eyes and shifted through the clutter Damon had produced all over the coffee table.

"I've, uh, see your empties, your dinner…" Alaric held up the empty bourbon bottle and a drained blood bag respectively. "Your razor." Damon pursed his lips awkwardly, and Alaric gave an exasperated sigh. "You know, clothes would be nice."

"Damon, I think we used up all of the hot water." Alaric heard a simpering voice behind him. Wearing his robe, untied, to reveal just her undergarments, Rebecca's eyes widened when she saw Alaric. Quickly covering herself, "Oh, I'm sorry Alaric…! Damon—"

"—told her you wouldn't mind if she borrowed your robe," Damon interrupted with a tight smile. "Good morning, Beck. Sleep well?" Alaric could tell there was a hidden meaning in his question, but he didn't want to think about Damon's extracurricular activities.

"No, you snore. Next time, I _will_ let you sleep on the couch." She rolled her eyes. Alaric almost allowed a laugh, but he was still guarded toward the other vampire. "Coffee, anyone?"

"I'm good," Damon replied as Alaric said, "Sure."

"Ah, found it." Damon's blue eyes lit up as he tapped Alaric's thigh to retrieve his cell phone from underneath it. He smiled to himself as he unlocked it, swiping through notifications.

"How long are you planning on crashing here, Damon?" Alaric asked wearily. "You know, you could compel yourself a whole sorority house if you wanted to."

"That'd be entertaining," Rebecca commented as she returned with two mugs of coffee. She handed Alaric his carefully before sitting on the sofa, still in his robe though it was now tied.

"Does no one wear clothes anymore?"

"We should do that," Rebecca commented, ignoring Alaric's disgruntled mutter. Damon grinned.

"And miss this old couple's squalor?" Damon muttered from the corner of his mouth to the other vampire. She giggled before sipping her hot coffee, but she immediately hissed from the vervain shredding her throat. She pushed the cup onto the coffee table, desperate to get away from it. Alaric gave her a dark smile.

"Oh, didn't you see the coffee can marked with a V?" he taunted lowly, taking a sip from his own mug. Rebecca narrowed her eyes, ready to lunge, but Damon interrupted.

"I'm starting to _enjoy_ the luxury of having one barely functional showerhead after _years_ of being tortured by the four I have in my actual _home_." The sarcasm saturated comment caught Rebecca's attention.

"Four?" Her eyes widened. "Wow, when we get Lily out of there, I am definitely taking a shower in your bathroom."

"You told her about your mother?" Alaric demanded lowly.

"Okay, one, I can still hear you," Rebecca rolled her eyes. "And, two, contrary to what _you_ believe, I'm actually on the _good_ side, and I'm willing to do whatever it takes to Elena back."

"You told her about Elena too?" Alaric's voice held the same incredulity. "I thought we agreed we wouldn't share that morsel of information because of the Cure!"

"Relax." Damon's voice was stern and directed to both of his friends. Alaric dropped his anger, and Rebecca let her ready-to-kill comment dissipate. She left the room again, and Alaric heard the guest room door close. "We're just here 'til we hunt down Lily's lone wolf Heretic and swap him for my girlfriend in a coma."

"Yeah, and uh, _how_ long until that happens?"

"Pretty soon, thanks to Donovan—a phrase no one has uttered, _ever_." Damon smirked at his own joke as he waved his cell phone at his friend; Alaric was less amused. "He's checking Lily's cell phone records."

The front door opened, and Alaric glanced over his shoulder to see where Damon watched fondly. Bonnie stormed into the apartment without warning, with a raised brow and her usual judgmental look.

"Hi, Bon-Bon," Damon greeted with a sultry tone, peering at her through his lashes. Alaric almost wished Damon tried to engage Bonnie in a romantic way, just so she could give him one of those repeating aneurysms and shut him up.

"Please tell me I'm not interrupting something," she said, eyeing Damon's nearly naked body and Alaric's furrowed brow.

"You never know with these two," Rebecca quipped smartly as Alaric grumbled, "Oh trust me, you're not." Rebecca sauntered back into the room, wearing a t-shirt and jeans, and held her new mug of coffee close. She smiled warmly to the newest person in the apartment. "Hi, Bonnie."

"Sue?"

"Actually… this is my…" Damon paused, and Alaric looked at his friend curiously. Rebecca laughed at Damon's conflicted expression.

"My name is actually Rebecca Sutton. I knew Damon from the 1800s."

Alaric studied Bonnie's blank face as she processed the words. Without warning, she raised a hand and muttered some not-so-Latin words, bring Rebecca's mug crashing onto the ground right next to her.

"Bonnie, what the hell are you doing?" Damon demanded protectively.

"Do you always surround yourself with people who could kill you at any second?" Rebecca cried, gripping her head.

"Bonnie, _stop_ ," Damon demanded, stepping closer. Bonnie raised a taunting brow at her friend before lowering her hand.

"That," Bonnie hissed, "was for lying to me and Ric."

"Oh, I didn't know supernatural beings had to introduce themselves as such," Rebecca said through gritted teeth as she got to her feet and wiped her face. Bonnie paused to consider her words. "Both you and Alaric need to stop thinking every coincidence is a curse."

* * *

"What's up, Bonnie?" Alaric sighed, bringing the petite girl's deadly gaze back down to a simmer. Rebecca rolled her eyes, knowing the two would ignore her comment, and used her vampire speed to clean the mess Bonnie caused. She sped into the kitchen to make a hasty third cup of coffee.

"That Phoenix Stone, that I touched yesterday… you _did_ destroy it like you promised me, correct?" Bonnie prompted hopefully. Rebecca entered the room in time to witness Alaric looking to Damon for help; Damon, however, offered none, busying himself with his cell phone.

"Why…? What happened?"

"I just had another vision," Bonnie explained. Rebecca took a gulp from her coffee, masking her interest. "A flash of horrified people with X-shaped wounds on their skin, and when I opened my eyes, _ten_ minutes had gone by."

"The stone is gone," Alaric declared a little too loudly. Rebecca sidestepped Bonnie while sharing a glance with Damon. When Rebecca had woken up, before Damon, she had seen Alaric fixated on a reddish stone, and she reported it to Damon. "I, you know, watched it dissolve in the hydrochloric acid."

"You're positive?" Bonnie pressed.

Rebecca frowned but was distracted by Damon's blue eyes widening with excitement as he peered at his phone. She bit her lip as her eyes traveled along his body; when she looked to see if she was caught, he winked at her knowingly. She blushed as she disappeared behind her mug again.

"Bonnie, the stone is gone," Alaric insisted.

"Who wants to go to Myrtle Beach?" Damon interrupted animatedly, saving his lying friend.

"Pass," Bonnie grumbled as Alaric announced, "I'm busy."

"I'm free. Should I pack a bathing suit?" Rebecca's cheeky response earned sharp looks from Bonnie and Alaric. She knew Damon was enjoying the tension between his old friend and his current friends.

"Well, that's too bad," Damon addressed his current friends, "because Lily made a bunch of phone calls that bounced off a cell tower there."

"Something tells me she's not making plans for her Spring Break," Rebecca joked dryly.

Bonnie bit the bait with a sigh, and a dramatic eye roll. Rebecca could see why Damon was friends with her; she was a witch, full of fire and sass. "Why would she send one of her Heretics to Myrtle Beach?"

"Tell you what. _You_ ask her yourself after he's safe in my car's trunk. Hmmm?" Damon gave the petite girl a cheeky grin, and she suppressed a smile. Rebecca examined the interaction with curiosity. With a little dance, he asked, "So, anyone up for an old-fashioned hostage swap?"

"Does agreeing to go mean you putting on pants?" Alaric asked with an irritated tone.

Damon ripped the towel from his hips and threw it onto Alaric's head. Bonnie immediately squeezed her eyelids shut. Rebecca, however, eyed her friend with curved lips and arched brow. She hummed her interest against the lip of her mug, only for Damon to hear.

"I'll even give you shotgun," Damon replied to Alaric though he was grinning at Rebecca.

* * *

"Caroline? Caroline?" Stefan called into the receiver of his phone urgently.

He groaned, realizing his call to his captured blonde had disconnected. He slammed a hand down on the bar counter, frustrated that he had lost her all over again. Despite Damon's plan, Stefan was still irked his brother was so easily blindsided by their mother's tactics.

Stefan had spent the morning reminiscing about his human life, flipping through his oldest journals. He had forgotten he was the tag-along little brother when it came to Damon, Ezekiel, and Rebecca. What he did remember was forming his own trio with the two youngest Suttons, Samuel and Charlotte, though he didn't stop spending time with his brother and Rebecca either.

For the rest of the morning, he made himself leave the Lockwood mansion and found himself in the Mystic Grill. He thought he'd raid the good liquor for when Damon figured out a way to get Elena and when Caroline was finally home, safely in his arms.

There was a crash outside of the Grill, pulling him out of his thoughts. He used his enhanced speed to reach the source. What he witnessed was his mother's old vehicle rear-ending his car as she tried to fit her long car in the small space between his car and another.

"You can take my town, you can destroy my house, but you will not touch my car," Stefan declared darkly, giving his mother a pointed stare. She sighed, lowering her eyes sheepishly. For a split moment, she looked like his human mother.

"Good morning, Stefan," she offered.

"What are you doing?" He took on his brother's mindset and attitude to deal with his mother at the moment. There was no space for niceties.

"Well, I was out… practicing my driving," Lily explained conversationally. As though Stefan wasn't glaring at her with contempt. "And I saw an opportunity to work on my parallel parking."

Stefan's eyebrows rose as his mother spoke. Listening to her talk about driving, as if she hadn't been born in the nineteenth century, was uncomfortable. His mother belonged in the past. He had to keep reminding himself that Lily Salvatore was not the same loving mother that had read him bedtime stories, that had tucked him in with a kiss to the forehead, and that had chased the monsters from beneath his bed with a broom.

She was now the monster.

Mother and son heard the hiss of air come from one of her back tires, and she rushed over to inspect it. Like she'd know how to fix it. She made a _tsk_ noise. "Must have run over a nail or something. The streets around here are a _disgrace_."

Catching himself from making a Damon-like comment about the streets condition and her involvement, Stefan remembered the bigger problem. Caroline.

"Listen, you need to tell those spoiled brats living in _my_ house to _stop_ torturing Caroline."

"Of course," Lily replied lightly, ignoring his hostility. Once, Damon had spoken to her in a demanding tone, and she had let their father beat him until his back bled. "As soon as you tell your brother to stop killing said spoiled brats."

Damon had been right—she was plotting them against each other. Stefan took the opportunity to start unraveling the plan he and his brother devised.

"Damon and I aren't speaking right now."

"…really?"

Fortunately, the red-haired vampire took the bait. Her blue eyes studied his face for any trace of deceit. Stefan fought the urge to smile with satisfaction.

"I have no idea where he is," Stefan continued pompously. "Apparently, you did both of us a favor when you told him to leave town."

Lily scrutinized her younger son, still searching for the lie. Luckily, Stefan had mastered lying to his mother years before she had died, thanks to his escapades with Damon and the Suttons.

"Then I will give a lecture to the girls on their manners," Lily finally complied.

Remembering his conversation with Caroline, Stefan inquired hesitantly, "Is one of those girls named Valerie Tulle?" A smile spread across his mother's face. It was pure. Stefan kept his gaze hard, running through the hurt he felt when he found out she had been alive after 1858.

"I was wondering when you might put those pieces together." Her voice was gentle and kind. Stefan jutted his chin out a little. "I knew Valerie years before you did. She worked in my TB ward. After I had turned, I took her under my wing… If memory serves me, you didn't meet her until 1863."

"How would you know that I met her?" Stefan challenged though his fire was kindled by intrigue.

"Because Stefan," Lily said, folding her hands in front of her lap, "I sent her to you."

* * *

Caroline groaned at Stefan's crushed cell phone. When she had heard it, hope sparked in her heart; when she heard Stefan's voice, the hope morphed into faith. The sound of his voice made her feel like she had an ally, in a pit of nasty sharks. Caroline glared up at Valerie, who had destroyed her only connection to the outside world, but Valerie ignored her, snatching the journal the blonde had been reading. It was Stefan's, from 1863.

"How do you have this?" Valerie's question was cool as she toyed with the leather-bound book, but Caroline could tell Valerie's tone was only covering the anger burning inside of her.

"Nora gave it to me," Caroline countered defiantly. She paused, wondering if she even wanted to know the answer to her next question. Valerie's eyes seemed to challenge her, pushing her to go ahead and ask. "What was the deal with you and Stefan?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" was Valerie's rude response.

Caroline wanted nothing more to rip the smirk from the Heretic's face, her muscles aching from self-control. But she had to think that plan through, considering she didn't know how much longer she would be stuck in the boarding house.

"You know what, you're right." Caroline declared, crossing her arms as she sat on the floor. Valerie's thin eyebrows rose curiously. "I'm already in enough pain… the last thing I need to think about is _some girl_ who batted her eyelashes at Stefan, like a _million_ years ago."

Valerie scoffed, turning away from Caroline like she was weighing her options. Caroline hoped her reverse psychology wasn't so transparent… but a small part of her also wished Valerie would notice and shut the whole conversation down. Caroline was hesitant to hear the whole story, knowing the envy and jealousy would make her captivity worse.

"Some girl," Valerie echoed bitterly. Hearing her own words, a dark energy pulse from within her. "I wasn't just _some girl_ to him, Caroline," she shot. Caroline almost flinched. "I was the first love of Stefan's life."

* * *

"I'm sorry."

Damon glanced at the backseat through the rearview mirror. Rebecca had been staring out the window silently since they hit the highway, only offering short replies and small smiles when he prompted them. Damon didn't push for her to talk, though, because he didn't want to maintain a meaningful conversation with her in front of Alaric or Bonnie. On the other side, behind the sleeping Alaric, Bonnie had been reading, asking questions to Damon or Alaric openly, but it was clear the witch was blaming herself for Rebecca's withdrawn attitude.

Rebecca glanced at Bonnie with a raised brow. Damon knew that look well, considering the many times he had to grovel for her forgiveness. "What are you sorry for?" She sounded her age, which scared him a little.

"For giving you the aneurysm."

"You were protecting your own," Rebecca shrugged, leaning away from Bonnie to continue her cloud watching. "I can't really blame you for that."

"So, um… you and Damon were friends way back when?"

Bonnie's conversation was her peace offering. He watched her eyes train on Rebecca. Damon hoped Rebecca took it, for Bonnie loved and protected her friends fiercely. His bond with the witch was the strong bond he had, after Stefan's brotherhood.

"Yeah. The Salvatores were a founding family, and my family, though less publicly visible, was too," Rebecca muttered over her shoulder.

"Why?"

"Because they were paranoid about the vampires, and they didn't want them to know who knew about the supernatural world," Rebecca replied like it was obvious. She turned to face Bonnie though her face didn't show any signs of friendliness. "My parents and Damon's were very close, so my siblings and the Salvatore boys have been family since forever."

"How many siblings did you have?"

"Five," Rebecca reported. "Two older sisters, one older brother, a younger brother, and a younger sister." The pride in her voice sent a pang through Damon's heart as he thought about all of them. They had enveloped him and Stefan into their family after Lily had disappeared.

"Wow." Bonnie's green eyes were wide. "I'm an only child."

"I can tell," Rebecca retorted. She bit her lip, running her fingers through her hair. "I miss them so much," she admitted quietly. "My old sisters were married off before I was old enough to understand, and they fawned over my older brother because he was the only boy at the time… but we were close when I got older." Rebecca's face broke into a sad smile as she continued, "Ezekiel and I were close, though. He and I used to pretend we were twins though we were a year apart."

"Did you, like, check on them once you…"

"I…" When her voice faltered, Damon stared at the two in the mirror. Rebecca's face was in her hands, but he didn't hear any crying; Bonnie gripped the blonde's shoulder for comfort. "I said goodbye to them… and then compelled them to forget," Rebecca whispered into her palms. "I compelled them to think I was kidnapped by the Union…"

"I'm sorry," Bonnie whispered, rubbing her hand against Rebecca's arm. Damon knew Bonnie would have hugged her, had Rebecca appeared receptive. "Oh… were you married?"

Damon almost swerved off the road. Both vampires looked at Rebecca's left hand as she removed her hands from her face. Among the other rings adorning her fingers, Damon's eyes widened at the slender gold band on her ring finger.

"I was," Rebecca muttered, averting her eyes from Bonnie. "I usually wear my rings on a chain…" She thumbed the lapis lazuli ring, adding, "Well, aside from my daylight ring."

Noting her reluctance to talk about her husband, Bonnie continued, "So is that your engagement ring?"

On her ring hand, also embellished by rings, was a silver band on her other ring finger. It had a small diamond embedded in the center, flanked by two small sapphires. Damon's eyes didn't waver from Rebecca's small smile.

"No, it's actually a, uh, family heirloom." Then a kind smile spread across her face. Damon noticed it didn't quite reach her honey eyes. He had seen this smile many times in the past too. "Enough about me, Bennett… what about you? Tell me about your life as a witch."

As Bonnie started to talk about her Grams and her early witch years, Rebecca glanced at Damon through the rearview mirror, knowing he had been eavesdropping the whole time. Damon's eyes were wide and piercing; Rebecca averted her eyes with a smile playing on her lips before she tuned back into Bonnie's animated retelling.

* * *

 **Mystic Falls 1863**

 _Though it was not common practice, if one was drafted and did not find patriotism swelling his heart, he could either pay a fine or find a substitute. Giuseppe Salvatore did the latter, commanding his eldest son in his place. The old, bitter drunk complained that his bones were too brittle, that the Council needed him, that Stefan would certainly die under Damon's sole care. Damon had taken the responsibility with white knuckles and a squared jaw. He knew, in his heart, Stefan needed_ him _more than he needed the abusive parent, but Damon's desire for purpose drove him to accept his place in the Confederacy._

 _The night Damon's regiment was scheduled to leave was also a Council meeting night. Abigail, though having a family of her own, upheld the tradition of her family spending the night together, extending the invitation to Stefan and Damon. Stefan, knowing Damon was leaving, had said his separate goodbyes; the seventeen year old clung to his older brother, cursing their father through sobs._

 _Dressed in his army uniform, Damon stood on the porch, his arms like lead. He heard the loud laughter, chatter, and commotion from within the house. He hadn't told anyone he was leaving. He figured he could just tell them in one setting, but he didn't think it would be the night he left._

 _He fought the urge to run, the urge to leave without saying good-bye… the urge to throw off the uniform and stay… but he squared his shoulders and lifted a heavy arm to knock._

 _Julia answered the door, still laughing at something from inside. She was an older version of Rebecca though she didn't possess the same spirit. A few Christmases ago, George Sutton had sat down with Giuseppe, to arrange a marriage between her and Damon, but another, wealthier family proposed an offer the Suttons could not refuse. When she caught sight of him, Julia's eyes widened and her hand covered her immediate sob._

" _Jule, who is…?"_

 _Abigail came to the door with her son, Henry, on her hip. Abigail didn't look physically older than her sister, but there were wisdom and experience drawing early wrinkles on her face. Damon's face remained unchanged, even at Abigail's dark glare and clenched jaw._

" _Did you, at least, tell Ezekiel and Rebecca?" Abigail was seething, ignoring Henry's chubby hands gripping her brown hair. "Or did you just come to say goodbye to your brother only?"_

" _I've come to say goodbye to everyone," Damon finally said, swallowing the lump in his throat. Abigail would always scare him, no matter how old he got. He knew her fierce attitude had come from raising half of her siblings and from her protective love. "You are all my family."_

 _Julia turned to bury her crying face into Abigail's neck, but Abigail allowed him into the house. He removed his frozen boots, but he kept his jacket and hat on. He would have to leave soon after his goodbyes. He walked into the main room, lit and heated by the fireplace. Stefan, though somber, played a board game with Samuel on the floor. Thirteen year old Charlotte was sitting next to Abigail's daughter, Victoria; the young aunt watching the five year old hold her new cousin, Julia's son, Benjamin. Rebecca and Ezekiel were playfully arguing near the fireplace. Everyone glanced over to see who had been at the door._

 _The room plummeted into silence._

" _I leave in a week," Ezekiel finally said, causing everyone to turn to him sharply. "Father told me what yours had done," he explained quietly. "He did the same."_

" _Always trust our fathers to put themselves before their own flesh and blood," Damon joked halfheartedly._

 _Charlotte was the first to move. She threw her arms around Damon's waist. Beside the crackling fireplace, the room filled with Charlotte weeping pleas for him to stay. After handing Benjamin over to Rebecca, Victoria ran up to Damon and hugged his leg. One after another, the rest piled into a hug that Damon could have stayed in forever. All except Rebecca and Ezekiel._

" _All right, let's get the young ones to bed," Abigail announced. Her voice was thick, but she still remained authoritative. "Stef, Sam, Lottie… we're with us." Julia received Benjamin from Rebecca, Samuel pulled Victoria onto his back, and Stefan lagged behind Charlotte to give his brother one more tight embrace._

" _I'll see you out there," Ezekiel muttered. Damon knew his voice was low to keep himself from crying. Damon could be dead by the time Ezekiel was even deployed. "We'll be brothers in arms."_

" _We've always been brothers, Ezekiel, and we always will be," Damon offered quietly, pulling his best friend into an embrace like he had given Stefan._

" _I'll give you to a minute," Ezekiel managed to say, retreating to the kitchen. To the rest of the town, it may have been an honor to be drafted, but to the families, it was a travesty. Damon knew Ezekiel was only excusing himself to pull himself together._

" _Save the best for last, huh, Salvatore?"_

 _Rebecca was dressed in Ezekiel's clothes; she refused to wear dresses whenever her parents were at Council meetings. A blue ribbon pulled her hair away from her sprightly expression. Her eyes studied his face as he stood closer to her. When he leaned forward to kiss her, she put a hand to his chest to prevent him._

" _Don't," she whispered. "You're coming back."_

" _But if I—"_

" _Then you'll leave this entire household broken-hearted," she retorted. "Don't you_ dare _die, Damon."_

 _Damon stared at her for a minute before running his fingers through his hair and reaching into his pocket. He produced a silver ring. He watched Rebecca's eyes fall on the ring, widening as the diamond and sapphire twinkled in the firelight. He couldn't understand her expression, so he explained._

" _This was my mother's. It was a heirloom, passed down through the eldest daughters. Apparently, my mother is the only eldest daughter, in all of her lineage, without a daughter." Damon held the ring before Rebecca in an open palm. "I took it from her jewelry box during the funeral. I want you to have it."_

" _Shouldn't you give it to your wife?" Rebecca mumbled, staring the piece of jewelry incredulously._

" _I suppose I could, but if I don't…"_

" _Shut up," she snapped, pushing him a little. "You're coming back, alive and well, and you're going to feel like a fool for letting me take this." Rebecca snatched the ring from his hand and slipped into her right ring finger._

" _I don't mind feeling like a fool." Damon smiled a little. After a moment, he pulled her into a hug. He felt her body meld into his embrace. Despite her words, she hugged him like it would be their last encounter. He pressed a firm kiss to her forehead, noting the quiet tears lining her face. "Goodbye, Rebecca."_

" _I'll see you when you return, Salvatore," she whispered back, kissing his cheek._

* * *

 **Wow, that was intensely sad.**

 **I hope you're enjoying the story so far!**

 **Let me know what you'd like to see more of in the upcoming chapters—different interactions, more time devoted to specific characters, or maybe (my favorite) more flashbacks? I'm happy to oblige.**

 **xo,**

 **glass27doll**


	6. The Lost Heretic

**A/N: Yay, another chapter! Hope you guys are enjoying the story so far!**

 **Send me some reviews/critiques/suggestions, I'd love to read them! If you want to talk about S7 in general, PM me please…!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own any of the TVD characters/plotlines/dialogue. I only own the Suttons and their storylines.**

* * *

 **Chapter 6**

The Lost Heretic

"Do you know how to…?" Lily stared at the deflated tire of her vehicle. After she had confessed sending Valerie to Stefan, she switched gears. "There is a spare tire in the trunk…"

"Hold on."

His mind was buzzing with this new information. Valerie had seemed so innocent, so sweet; she didn't carry the same vampiric arrogance Katherine held. She was more experienced than he was, but she was also older than him. Stefan returned to his mother with his toolbox from his own car's trunk.

"You'll have to hold the car up while I change it, though," Stefan instructed. He had a carjack, but his mother didn't know that. Lily nodded with an expression of both obedience and gratitude. She easily lifted the side of the car as Stefan took a wrench to the hubcap.

"How lucky I am to have a son who knows how to do this," Lily said under her breath. Stefan rolled his eyes though his head was turned toward the tire.

"I've been a mechanic for years," he said flatly. Then, he debated whether he wanted to go down the path Lily had opened up. He had agreed to change her tire because he still had to wait for Damon to complete his part of the plan, but now would be a good time for him to also establish a good rapport with his mother. Without looking away from his work, he inquired offhandedly, "Why did you send Valerie to me?"

"To check on you," Lily responded as though it were obvious." Stefan glanced up, against the sun, to study his mother's rigid form against the sky. Though dressed modernly, she was still a woman of the nineteenth century. "Like any mother longing for her children, I was in a black hole of depression."

Her son scoffed a bitter laugh. Lily appeared to Stefan one night after her death and led him to believe she was an angel in a dream. After that, the only time he saw her was in his memories and seedy photographs. To think she even cared enough to _grieve_ or sink into depression was just a dark joke.

"Yeah, Stefan, I am more than the cold-hearted snake you and your brother wish me to be," Lily barked, her blue eyes flashing. Her son raised an eyebrow, to which Lily's expression and voice softened. She gazed into the distance, remembering. "It took me a long time to get over losing you. Anyway, I had been invited to travel Europe with a… a vampire gentleman friend of mine, but I _refused_ to leave until I knew my boys were okay."

Stefan chuckled, standing from his previous crouching position. Lily lowered the car onto its new tire. He eyed his mother, inquiring, "A gentleman friend? _You_ had a boyfriend?"

"His name was Julian," Lily replied defensively, and then frowned at Stefan's amusement. "What, you're acting as if that's absurd."

"Well, your first husband shot and killed his own son," Stefan shot back darkly. He could see his confession had startled her, but there was no shock in her eyes. Giuseppe was a cruel man with no limitations. "So, you'll have you excuse me if I don't trust you _type_."

"Julian was nothing like your father," Lily declared firmly.

"No? What was he, like a nebbish banker? Town butcher, perhaps?" Stefan's tone was playful, but he found no humor in his mother's happiness with another man while he and Damon thought she was dead. If he had known, all of these years, he couldn't have felt so guilty for not being there when she was sent away.

Lily smiled when she remembered her former flame. "Julian was the man you are _not_ supposed to fall for… so, of course, I did."

* * *

"Damon, I'm going to need some blood," Rebecca muttered close to Damon. Bonnie lagged behind them, and Alaric was protectively standing next to her.

Bonnie studied the new vampire's weary profile. Though her eyes were full of light whenever she looked at Damon, she could sense something was off with her. Maybe that was why she was so quiet in the car. Damon glanced back at Bonnie, and the witch produced a hospital issued blood bag from her messenger bag. Rebecca took it gratefully and turned away from the humans as she bit into the bag and drank. Damon, being able to see Rebecca's face transform from his position, watched with curiosity… and another emotion Bonnie couldn't place.

"Okay, so what's the plan?" Alaric interrupted as the group strolled down the hall of red doors, to the one at the end. Rebecca had compelled the hotel manager to give them the missing Heretic's room number and then to forget they had ever asked.

"Okay, fair trade," Damon replied hastily. "One Heretic in good condition, in return for the coffin housing Elena."

"No, I meant the plan where we try to capture a powerful _Heretic_ who'd prefer we were _dead_ ," Alaric countered in a hiss. Bonnie's eyebrows rose, realizing Alaric's point, and she turned to Damon. Rebecca, while still sucking on the plastic bag, studied Damon as well.

"Easy," Damon professed quietly. "B-town stuns him with magic, you shoot him with vervain. I," Damon made a nasty clicking noise with a gesture, "snap his neck."

"And me?" Rebecca quipped, earning everyone's attention. Though she was still apprehensive about the vampire, Bonnie had to admit Rebecca was starting to grow on her.

"He's a witch and a vampire," Damon shrugged. "You're backup, of course."

"Yeah, but _after_ we get him to siphon away my visions," Bonnie interjected with the same fervor as Damon. Alaric and Damon frowned.

"Wait, what?" Alaric demanded incredulously. Bonnie rolled her eyes; now was not the time for him to act like the concerned father figure.

"Well, the visions _are_ magic. He is a _siphon_. I mean, it's worth a shot… right?" Bonnie prompted, looking between the three hopefully.

Rebecca nodded, muttering, "That's a sound postulation." Bonnie gave Rebecca a grateful smile, to which Rebecca winked back coolly. It reminded Bonnie of Damon. The witch was thankful for the backup, even though Rebecca didn't know anything about the Phoenix Stone, other than what she overheard. Upon sight of his face, Rebecca shrunk away from Damon's withering glance.

"Any _other_ suggestions of how we can rid Bonnie of this mysterious _pain_ she's in, Ric?" When he came up short, Damon put on a tight smile and hummed his discomfort. Bonnie knew his intentions were pure, but she just could not handle the visions anymore...

Damon knocked the red door in front of them. Bonnie felt Rebecca tuck the emptied blood bag into her messenger bag. When she glanced up to Rebecca, her face was radiant as she beamed back at the witch.

"Room service! Free shrimp!" Rebecca called when no one answered. Bonnie and Alaric gave her a strange look, but Bonnie noted Damon's amusement and proud smile.

The door swung open. Damon straightened his stance, taking the lead; Alaric readied his already cocked vervain gun next to Bonnie, who held a spell on the tip of her tongue; Rebecca stood protectively in the back. The open doorway revealed Oscar, the missing Heretic, a short Asian man in his pajamas and a robe. He looked tired, marked by the bags under his eyes and the stubble covering his face.

"Hey, you folks have the wrong- _Holy_!"

Damon smirked at the man's reaction. Bonnie, on the other hand, was less amused. She glanced at Alaric, who shared her sentiment, and then at Rebecca, who kept her eyes focused on the man curiously. Oscar broke into a grin so wide that his dimples were prominently displayed.

"Damon Salvatore!" he exclaimed with recognition.

"You know him?" Rebecca inquired from the back before Damon could. His dark brows were knit together as he scrutinized the Heretic.

"Of course I know him!" the short man smiled, though looking at Damon's confused face. "It's good to see you're well, old friend! Come here, man." Oscar embraced Damon heartily. Rebecca giggled when Damon patted his back awkwardly. "Come in, come in," he urged once he released Damon.

The dark-haired vampire threw a look back at his friends. Alaric's face was set, but Bonnie's eyebrows were held up by shock. Rebecca, on the other hand, pushed past the group and took Oscar up on his offer. Damon led the others into the hotel room cautiously, discretely checking for threats.

"Sorry—you caught me at the end of a seventy-two hour social gathering," Oscar explained. Nearly everything in the room had been disrupted or disheveled. "Make yourselves at home. Um, friend, with the vervain gun," Oscar addressed with a contorted face. Alaric raised a threatening brow. "if you could just holster that… I sure would feel a lot more comfortable." Alaric looked at Damon—if he thought it was safe enough, the gun would return to the holster—and Damon gave him a curt nod. Alaric complied reluctantly before folding his arms across his chest.

"How do you know Damon?" Bonnie queried, eyeing Oscar carefully.

"Oh, he's Lily's son," Oscar replied as if it were obvious, "the _hero_ soldier." Oscar dissolved into giggles, making Bonnie more curious about his statement. He continued, "We met at a bar near Gettysburg. July of 1863, no?"

"I go to a lot of bars," Damon deflected with a sneer.

"Right," Oscar drawled, pointing at Damon like he had brought up an inside joke. Bonnie and Rebecca shared a look; this guy had lost it. Oscar got comfortable in an armchair while he told the story. "Well, your mom was going through a rough patch… She just could _not_ move on until she knew her boys were okay, so she sent _me_ out to find _you_."

"My mother abandoned her family and ran for the hills." Damon's comeback was thick with hatred and sarcasm, but Bonnie heard the pain underneath. "She doesn't give a flying crap about me."

"I sense hostility," Oscar noted with a singsong voice, "and that's fine!" He chuckled a little, drumming his fingers on the arms of his chair childishly. "All emotions are valid and welcome here. But, it's the truth. She just wanted to know you were happy, Damon. She loved you." Bonnie felt Alaric's eyes on her as Oscar had dipped into a genuine tone. She didn't look away from the interaction, though. "Hey, you guys, what can I get you?" Oscar asked suddenly. "Cocktail? Joint? Jenny?"

The four turned to look at the thin woman sprawled in the sea of bedding, naked and unconscious. Rebecca frowned—Bonnie noted the familiar disgust painting her face. "Is she even alive?" Rebecca scoffed.

"Does my mom even know you're here?" Damon demanded before Oscar could defend himself against Rebecca's accusation.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Oscar put a finger to his lips and glanced around as if Lily was lurking around and waiting to strike. " _Shhhh_." Suddenly, the Heretic was in another laughing fit.

The whole situation made Bonnie uneasy.

* * *

"And where do you think you're going?" Stefan demanded as Lily opened the driver's door. With his mother being new to this millennium, Stefan felt like he was the parent in their relationship… or lack of a relationship. Lily frowned with confusion, looking at the car as if her answer would be obvious.

"Well, I need to keep practicing, Stefan."

"Driving isn't something you can just teach _yourself_." The blonde vampire frowned, scratching his chin; he'd pretend like he hadn't already made up his mind. He finally sighed, as if he concluded a great mental debate. "I'll take you onto the road… out of Mystic Falls, onto better roads."

"You will?"

His mother's transparency was disturbing. Being a vampire involved mystery and secrets. One learns to mask unadulterated emotions—Damon was the prime example of how to accomplish that. The woman who birthed them, however, flaunted her heart on her sleeve. Perhaps her time in the prison world had tainted her worldly perception, and, therefore, her interpersonal relations.

"I will," Stefan nodded with a tight smile, "Get in."

Stefan spent a few minutes running through the basic rules of the road, glossing over the initial processes. He made her adjust her seat, more suitable for her height, and then, he patiently explained how to adjust her mirrors. He told her about the horn, the indicators, the windshield wipers, and all of the various displays on the dashboard. He even made her adhere to the "ten and two" rule the minute she began driving.

Though Lily was slow to learn, she finally digested all of his directions. The engine stalled, at first, causing Lily's face to twist with alarm, but her son assured her old vehicles, such as the one she had chosen, were generally weaker. When she managed to follow all of his guidelines and get onto the main road, Stefan pointed her in the direction out of Mystic Falls.

His mother only asked questions—was she in the middle of the lane, what she should do if a car comes—but Stefan knew these were vain grasps for conversation. When the car began to veer into the opposing lane, Stefan caught his mother watching him. The look could only be described as a loving one.

As if she knew what that was.

"No, no… stay on this side of the road," he scolded. He gently nudged the wheel straight and gave her a pointed stare. Lily sighed, obeying him, and kept her eyes forward.

"Valerie never told me about your romance, Stefan."

That was why she was being so quiet and awkward. If he had to be honest with himself, Stefan felt uncomfortable talking about that part of his life. He had spent much time and effort to successfully bury it, but, now that his mother had uncovered it, the memories leaked back into his unconsciousness… allowing the pain as well.

"Well, Valerie never told me you were alive."

"Would it have mattered?" Lily muttered bitterly. He had been trying to be nonchalantly, but Stefan couldn't help looking over at his mother incredulously; her blue eyes were narrowed on the road in front of her.

"Is that a _real_ question?"

"She told me that you had forgotten all about me." Though she tried to sound casual, she just sounded wounded. Stefan averted his eyes respectfully. "She said that you had moved on, and _that_ was the only way I was able to move on, as well."

"My mother was practically _ripped_ out of my arms and sent to a TB ward." If he didn't calm down, he could very well ruin his chances of merely creating the illusion of a bridged relationship. His voice softened as he added, "You don't _move on_ from that. You find distractions. And Valerie had been a readily available distraction."

* * *

"So, why did Lily send you here?" Rebecca inquired from the bed. Bonnie didn't bother to look back. She eagerly sat at the edge of her seat, waiting for any opportunity to ask Oscar to siphon away her horrid visions.

"She didn't send me _here_ , exactly." Oscar chuckled. Bonnie was slightly irritated by his generally giddy personality. "She had a job, and I volunteered. And she has the family on a short leash back home, with this whole 'I took you in as orphans, so I know what's best for you' vibe."

"Once a mother, always a mother," Rebecca muttered under her breath with distaste.

Bonnie caught sight of Damon's blue eyes training on her, from his lounging position on the quaint sofa. He could tell she was tense, probably told by her hammering heart or her short breaths. He gave her an easy, reassuring smile. If he didn't hear her heart then, his smirk gave away that he heard it now.

" _No thank you_ ," Oscar continued to ramble. His eyes lit up. "Did you know you can get a drink served to you in a _fishbowl_ here?" Getting more riled, Oscar sat up with wild eyes. "Oh, hey, the other day, I called a number on this card, and just like _that_ , I had a girlfriend."

Bonnie rolled her eyes with a sour smile. "It's called an _escort service_ ," she corrected. Rebecca was the only one in the room to find his mistake amusing. Bonnie finally glanced over her shoulder to see the giggling vampire on one corner of the bed and Alaric on the other.

"But she really _got_ who I am, you know?"

"That's her _job_ , honey," Rebecca replied playfully.

"It was a beautiful, human experience," Oscar defended adamantly, "and _that's_ what I discovered her. _Freedom_. That bad trip inside the prison world has _ended_ , my friends, and I am breathing in what my soul was craving. F-R-E-E-D-O-M."

"Well, in the spirit of helping others with their _freedom_ ," Bonnie interjected brazenly before Oscar could continue his poetic ramblings. She glanced at her friends for their assurance, continuing, "I have a favor to ask you. You know… as a siphoner."

Oscar frowned at the term. "Huh?"

"Let me translate for you," Damon interrupted with his usual sarcastic, cool smile. My friends were playing with this mystic _tool_ they didn't quite understand, and now Bonnie's chasing her own white rabbit around the farm."

"So, you want me to… what? Siphon her problems away?" Oscar sounded sober and somewhat… bitter. Bonnie wondered how many times the Heretics had been manipulated into using their special abilities to fix others' dilemmas.

"Just think of it as one big, magical _toke_ ," Rebecca commented offhandedly. When everyone glanced over at her curiously, she didn't seem phased. "Oh, I'm sorry, but was I _not_ alive during the 70's?"

"I don't really like to _mix_ mediums if you know what I mean," Oscar protested though punctuated by a hearty chuckle.

"Just siphon the damn visions," Damon demanded through gritted teeth. Bonnie's eyes switched between Oscar and Damon with anticipation. When Damon became protective, it usually ended badly for the opposition. "We won't tell Lily that we saw you, avoiding _whatever_ mission you were sent to do, and then we'll call it a day."

The mention of Lily was enough to convince the Heretic. Unfortunately for Oscar, he didn't know Damon was lying like Bonnie knew. Smile gone, Oscar stood and commanded, "Okay, then, come on." Bonnie obeyed and stood across from him eagerly. She felt everyone's eyes on her as she shook with expectation. "Ready?" the witch-vampire prompted.

"Yeah." Her response was a whisper caught up in her desperate nod.

"Okay."

Oscar planned his hands on either side of her head and closed his eyes. Bonnie's eyes fluttered shut the moment she felt the warmth of his hands increase as her magic boiled beneath them. The feeling was strange, but she could only describe it as a struggle, as Oscar sifted through her actual magic, looking for the magic she wanted removed. Suddenly, the Stone's visions penetrated her consciousness until it consumed her mind. She trembled under the touch of Oscar's stable hands as she heard the tormented screams and saw X-shaped wounds rip open.

Oscar snatched his hands away, and Bonnie's eyes snapped open. Though his expression was blank, Bonnie noted the panic in his eyes. Fear ignited in her.

"Where's the Phoenix Stone?" the Heretic demanded, with a deadly look in his eyes.

Bonnie tilted her head with shock. How did he know about the Stone? Alaric sprang to his feet, prepared to protect her. Rebecca took Alaric's lead, similarly willing to strike. Though he stayed on the sofa, Damon's brow furrowed, his eyes wildly curious.

"How do you know about the Phoenix Stone?" Bonnie questioned.

"How do _you_ know about the Phoenix Stone?" Oscar shot back immediately. He searched each face, demanding, "What are you people up to?"

Without answering, Alaric raised his gun to shoot Oscar, but the Heretic chanted a spell defensively, to disarm the human easily. Instinctively, Oscar clasped his fist, causing the four to choke and sink to their knees. Bonnie reached a hand to admit a spell, but the lack of oxygen made it difficult. The last thing she witnessed was Oscar snapping Damon and Rebecca's necks.

Then, dark unconsciousness consumed her.

* * *

Rebecca groaned as she pushed herself off the thin carpet. She sat up and glanced around the room. Jenny, the human, was still asleep on the bed; her heartbeat was sluggish. Rebecca had fed her some of her blood, to heal her, but it seemed to be taking longer than usual. Bonnie stirred from her spot on the ground like she was fighting to wake up. Alaric, however, was still out cold; his neck was twisted at an uncomfortable angle. Damon, like Rebecca, had, groaned as he woke. He pushed himself to sit up, massaging the back of his neck as he surveyed the room. He caught her eye; she could see, through his groggy state, he was concerned.

"Are you all right?" he mumbled, knowing she could hear him perfectly. She nodded, immediately wincing at the pain in her neck. Her neck had been snapped onto a few times over her many years; she had forgotten the lingering ache.

"Are you?"

Damon just gave her a sour smile before stumbling onto his feet. He stood over Alaric and nudged him with the tip of his boot. The man protested from the base of his throat and squinted at Damon's stoic expression. The vampire helped him up before gently guiding Bonnie's waking body to her feet as well.

"Good news, the visions are gone," Damon began with his usual chipper tone.

"Bad news, so is Oscar," Rebecca finished with a deep sigh. She caught Damon eyeing her with wonder. It was strange to be around her childhood best friend again, but vampires had a knack of falling back into old routines.

Alaric patted his pockets frantically; Damon and Rebecca shared the same glance they had in the morning. He was looking for the reddish stone, the one he claimed to have destroyed, the one Bonnie and Oscar had fearfully revered as the Phoenix Stone.

"He took the stone," Alaric declared to Damon with panic.

"Uh, how is that possible when you _destroyed_ it, Ric?" Rebecca watched as Bonnie's genuine confusion changed into a dark glower.

"We need to find him right now," Alaric urged Damon, his eyes barely flitting over to Rebecca as an inclusion. He ignored the anger overtaking Bonnie quickly.

"Did you know he still had it?" Bonnie asked Damon. Rebecca bit her lip as she watched her childhood friend flounder under Bonnie's scrutiny and accusation.

"Oh, come _on_ … I mean, I—a little… Beck! Tell her what happened." Damon's blue eyes pleaded, just like when they were teenagers. As Rebecca opened her mouth to defend her friend, Bonnie held up a silencing hand. Rebecca flinched.

"No, I am asking _you_." Bonnie's green eyes narrowed to slits. "Rebecca doesn't claim to be my best friend. She owes me nothing."

"I live with the guy!" Damon defended. He added lamely, "Guys… know stuff."

"You lied to me," Bonnie hissed immediately. Again, as Rebecca started to intervene, Bonnie gave her a withering stare. Rebecca knew better than to cross a powerful witch.

" _I_ didn't lie to you— _Ric_ lied to you," Damon pointed to the human accusingly. Alaric frowned. "I just kept my mouth shut." Damon shook his head vehemently. "Wait! I am _not_ going to be stuck in the middle of this. Nope! _You_ sort this out. _I'm_ going to find our bargaining chip." At the door, Damon turned to give Rebecca a familiar look. She rolled her eyes.

"I know, I know," Rebecca sighed exasperatedly as Bonnie and Alaric glared each other down. "I'll stay with the kids," she huffed. Damon smirked, winked at his blonde friend, and zoomed out of the room.

Rebecca sat on the plush bed, looking between the two remaining people in the room expectantly. They watched her curiously. "Well, go on. He left so you two could duke it out. I'm just the referee." Bonnie rolled her eyes at Rebecca's coy smirk and looked back to Alaric with venom.

"So, the visions, the lost time, the crippling headaches—they didn't mean _anything_ , didn't _matter_ to you?" Bonnie's voice ended double the volume as when it started. Rebecca noted her trembling body and the frustrated tears beginning to form.

"Of course, they _matter_ ," Alaric pleaded. His hand started to reach for Bonnie's shoulder, but the young woman glared at it. His arm dropped to his side. "But bringing back Jo matters more."

Rebecca hummed her discomfort. She turned back to the unconscious blonde, Jenny, swaddled in red satin sheets. She petted Jenny's blonde hair affectionately. The human reminded her of her little sister, Charlotte. Lottie had the same figure, the same blonde hair…

"You don't even know what this stone _does_ ," Bonnie accused. "If it will even work."

"I was _dead_ —gone!" Rebecca had lived with the man for only a day, basically stalked him for two weeks, and she still could tell he was shattered on the inside, feebly held together by the hope of the Phoenix Stone. "And so were you, Bonnie! We came back. We got our second chance.

The mysterious history and backgrounds these two had intrigued Rebecca. She wondered if Damon had a similar past… she would have to ask him when all of this drama was over.

"We were on the Other Side, okay?" Bonnie seemed beyond desperate for Alaric to understand the reality of the situation. Her voice had become a pleading whine. "It doesn't _exist_ anymore!"

"Look. Jo was the love of my life, and if there is even a _one_ percent chance that this could work…" Alaric stepped closer to Bonnie. She glared up at him. "I need to take it. No matter how dangerous or insane it may be, because…" His eyes lowered. "If I don't, I am going to spend the rest of my life wishing I had stayed dead."

* * *

"No, no." Stefan felt Lily's eyes settled on his face, luckily before the vehicle began to veer off the road. "Keep your eyes on the road," he commanded with a firm point. Lily sighed and obeyed. "Make a left here… it'll take us back into town."

"Is there anything _else_ you'd like to know?" Lily offered as she followed his directions. Stefan noticed the gentleness of her voice; the offer, to show her how to drive, pleased her. He knew she was lapping this "bonding time" like she had spent over a century in a desert, rather than the 1903 prison world. Stefan turned his eyes back to the road as well.

"No," he replied easily. Actually, he just didn't want to find out anything else from his past was false. "I mean, it didn't matter. Obviously, it was all a lie, right?"

He glanced over to see his mother's eyebrows pinch together. "What do you mean?"

"Well, Valerie was using me." Stefan shrugged.

"No, no," Lily urged, defending her first Heretic creation. "Valerie would not have hurt you because that would have, inadvertently, hurt me, as well." Stefan scoffed, looking out the window. His mother's naivety was nearly repulsive.

"Did it _ever_ occur to you that maybe Valerie doesn't give a crap about _you_ or anyone else?" He didn't allow himself to sound as bitter as he felt; he curbed his emotion as a vampire should.

"I do not believe that," Lily declared. Stefan narrowed his eyes at his mother's proudly raised chin, searching for an ounce of hesitation, to redeem her. When he found none, he almost laughed at the absurdity.

"No? What about the part where she sent me a telegram, that she was coming back?"

"She what?"

Stefan gave a tight smile, secretly reveling in his mother's slacked jaw and round eyes. "She had been gone for a few months… and she said she'd run away with me. Her telegram said to meet her, Friday, at noon. I showed up two hours early." Stefan looked out the window again as the memories surfaced painfully. "I sat around all day, like an idiot," he muttered darkly, "past sundown, after nightfall, but she never showed up." He blinked quickly, concluding, "So, yeah, I guess you could say I'm wondering what the hell the whole point was."

"Surely you're not still angry with her," Lily ventured, keeping her eyes forward.

Though she said it with certainty, Stefan finally heard the suspicion lacing her statement. Stefan studied the woman for a moment before mulling over the question for himself. Was he still angry with Valerie? He shouldn't be. There's no need. There's no purpose.

He finally opted to mutter, "It was 150 years ago."

* * *

Caroline frowned as Valerie's voice faltered.

The young vampire had originally thought there must be one Heretic among the group that had redeeming qualities. After all, if Caroline could find the sliver of good in Damon Salvatore—though, admittedly, that sliver was Elena Gilbert—she could certainly find it in at least one of these godforsaken monsters. Finding the good was one of her best qualities, aside from befriending the un-befriend-able and planning a great event. She thought Valerie had been the one. She offered to help Caroline, despite her strange sisterhood with Nora and Mary Louise; though she claimed not to be close with them, they all shared similar abandonment and one vampire mother.

But Nora had been right. Valerie _was_ the worst one.

Valerie stopped flipping through the journal and picked up a yellowed page. Caroline watched the Heretic's eyes begin to water.

"He kept the telegram I had sent him," she whispered. Then she read, " 'I promised I would find my way back to you… I long to be in your arms again'." Valerie cleared her throat, and Caroline almost felt bad for her. Or the empathy for Stefan was just overflowing. "He waited and waited for me," Valerie continued, having memorized Stefan's journal entries. "With each passing footstep, he would turn, expecting to see me. Eventually, he had accepted that he had been abandoned all over again. He walked home under the 'cold and distant stars'."

Valerie tossed the journal onto the coffee table as proof. As the scene unfolded in Caroline's mind, she almost cried for the vampire of her affections. Caroline glared at Valerie instead.

"How could you do that to him?" Despite her anger, the question as an incredulous whisper.

"There was a change in plans." Just like that, Valerie's voice was hard and her expression void. She stood from Stefan's armchair abruptly and declared, "I am done talking to you about this."

* * *

 **No flashbacks this time. Disappointed? Let me know, I'll be sure to lay them on thick.**

 **Also, how are you liking Rebecca Sutton? Maybe next chapter, I'll explain my inspiration for her… Review, and we'll see ;)**

 **Hope you're enjoying it! Have a lovely day!**

 **xo,**

 **glass27doll**


	7. Negotiation

**A/N: It seems like a few of you like the story so far! Thanks for all of the follows and favorites!**

 **Send me some reviews/critiques/suggestions, I'd love to read them! If you want to talk about S7 in general, PM me please…!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own any of the TVD characters/plotlines/dialogue. I only own the Suttons and their storylines.**

 **Chapter 7**

Negotiation

"I lied."

Damon found Oscar frantically trying to find a way out of the hotel. Amidst the abandoned, run-down hall, the Heretic turned to face Damon. "I _do_ remember you. I was fighting for the South. It's not exactly a time I like to reminisce about in front of my _friends_."

"Yeah," Oscar chuckled, pointing at Damon knowingly, "you had the same opinion back then too. Hated everything your side believed in. Hey, you wanted to desert but feared shaming your old man."

"You compelled me to take sick leave," Damon said lowly, staring at the tile as he remembered the muggy bar that housed their shared moment. All he could had been able to think about was returning to the people he called family. "The next day, my entire regiment was slaughtered in Gettysburg… You saved my life." Damon's eyes rose to meet Oscar's.

"I couldn't compel you back then," Oscar corrected gently. "All I did was talk to you, from one human to another. I told you to follow your heart." Oscar gave a weak smile. "Now, it's my turn to desert. I don't want to be part of Lily's cavalry, okay? I don't want _rules_ or a _chain of command_. I just want to have fun." Damon studied Oscar with his outstretched arms and laughing face. He couldn't deny he knew the allure of _fun_. Oscar sobered for a moment and looked Damon in the eyes like he had many years ago. "A little extra piece of advice? A lot of people want that Phoenix Stone. Mess with it, and you end up dead."

"Full disclosure?" Damon gave Oscar his best smile. "I don't care about the Stone."

Oscar's brows furrowed. "Then why are you chasing me, man?"

"Let's just say I'd like to cash you in for something _way_ better," Damon smirked.

Damon sped away to obtain a piece of broken wood. He jabbed it into Oscar's chest, avoiding his heart only by a few inches. He had to keep the missing Heretic alive for the trade to be valid; luckily, he's done this many times before. With a struggle, Oscar pushed the vampire away and muttered a spell to send Damon flying backward. Damon's body hurled into the air, crashing into a ceiling light before gravity brought his body back to the unforgiving, thin carpet. Damon _hated_ witches. Oscar tore the piece of wood from his chest by the time Damon could stagger to his feet, and Oscar raised his arm to kill.

Suddenly, Oscar was screaming and clutching his head. Damon heard the hiss of Bonnie's furious chant, the familiar one that caused repeating aneurysms. Damon was still trying to catch his breath as Alaric arrived behind Oscar, delivering three vervain darts into his back. It may have taken more time than expected, but Damon's original plan was coming to fruition. However, instead of Damon performing the final act, Rebecca sped into the hall and snapped Oscar's neck before searching Damon's bloodied face.

"Well, I couldn't just let you have _all_ the fun," she muttered as she made sure his wounds had already healed. Damon gave her a smile and a nod.

Bonnie walked past the two vampires, giving Damon a heated side-glance. She knelt next to Oscar's unconscious body and picked up the Phoenix Stone that had fallen from his pocket. She stood and turn to Alaric with a stony glare. She held the stone out, in the palm of her hand, before Alaric. The man eyed her with anticipation.

" _Never_ lie to me again." Damon knew that stern tone well; it was a command and a threat, knotted together by a piercing stare he could never shake. He knew this was Alaric's last chance for her. Alaric nodded curtly before taking the stone from her hand gingerly.

"Aw, my besties are buds again," Damon said to Rebecca. She cooed mockingly, following his lead like when they were children, but he could tell she was eyeing him for any source of injury. He was a vampire and could not sustain any injury, but he knew it was a habit from their past.

"Any splinters?" Rebecca inquired for only him to hear. He shook his head discreetly, slightly thrown by someone actually caring about his wellbeing. He avoided her avoiding her concerned glance. These were the types of moments that muddled his mind.

"All right," the determined vampire declared with a twisted smile. "Let's go make a deal."

* * *

Caroline had read and reread the story Valerie had told her almost obsessively.

At first, she cried, for Stefan. Her poor Stefan, human and innocent, fell for Valerie's temptress act. Valerie was clearly older than he was, clearly took advantage of him. Caroline knew what that was like, having similarly fallen for Damon's own act when she too was an innocent human. But the more times she read it, the more her vengeance built inside of her chest. It felt like layers of molten anger threatening to release by destroying the room or letting out a disgruntled scream. But the Heretics would hear it and take pleasure in her pain.

Finally, she stifled her wrath for another day and moved past the sad, fairytale story. She decided to skim through the year of Stefan's last year as a human.

"Is Valerie here?"

Caroline didn't look away from Stefan's journal. Lily Salvatore had walked into the boarding house only a few minutes ago; Caroline had heard the brief, warm greetings to her Heretic "children" and her straight journey to Stefan's old room, where Caroline had been magically sealed into.

Caroline was a traditional girl. She had tried to be nice to Vicki Donovan when she was dating Matt, but the drunken woman only projected her own insecurities onto the teen. She had secretly aspired to be like Carol Lockwood before she even began dating Tyler; the two had been close, considering Caroline loved to help plan and host Carol's events. Caroline would have loved to bond with Stefan's mother to befriend her—to have tea together, to shop together, to joke about Stefan together… Like any good girlfriend would do. But Lily was the one who orchestrated her abduction.

"I heard her leave the house," Caroline replied casually. Her eyes stayed on the same word. "I guess _torture_ makes her hungry." The blonde glanced up, flashing a dark look at the older woman, and returned to her page.

"Forgive me for prying…" Lily began hesitantly. Without looking up, Caroline's eyebrows rose. This ought to be good. "But I heard your mother died this past spring."

Caroline frowned immediately, locking eyes with the red-haired woman. "I just spent the day reliving Stefan's _first time_. I really don't feel like talking about my _dead_ mother with my hostage taker—but _thanks._ " Caroline may have been a traditional girl, but she learned when and how to stand up for herself.

Unfazed, Lily responded weakly, "I was simply curious about one's ability to heal after such a loss."

Caroline peered at the older woman curiously as she retreated. Was she being played into feeling sorry for her outburst? Was this just another form of mental torture? Stefan had told her that Lily had been a Ripper during her early vampire years… and Caroline knew too well about the manipulation a vampire without humanity could dole out.

"Well, you must have had a mother." Caroline's big heart got the best of her. Lily stopped at the door. "I mean, even Mussolini had a mother."

"Of course I had a mother," Lily retorted with a confused frown. This docile Lily didn't seem like the malicious type.

"Then you know, _that_ love is different from any other kind of love," Caroline replied simply. "Stefan wrote about you all the time." Caroline met Lily half way, offering the open journal. "You can read for yourself… Here."

Lily took the open journal, and her blue eyes swept over several pages greedily. Stefan had written about his mother at least once an entry. Caroline knew that covetous desire to know if someone loves her. It could have broken her heart if she wasn't callous toward the woman who "mothered" those crazy witch-vampire hybrids.

"He loved you," Caroline said gently. "He missed you."

After a moment of silence, Caroline was sure Lily would have stood in the middle of the room, reading Stefan's journal, cover to cover, without regarding the blonde captive. Finally, Lily raised her voice, without looking away from the journal, and commanded, "Nora, remove the barrier spell, please." Her blue eyes met Caroline's meaningfully. "As of this moment, Miss Forbes is no longer a prisoner here."

Caroline's heart skipped with hope before she narrowed her eyes suspiciously at the woman. "What… is this one of those mean girl tricks?"

"No," Lily smiled kindly. A motherly smile. "It is a reward for Stefan's honesty." Lily averted her eyes and sighed. "Go, before I change my mind."

Caroline walked to the door, trying to make sense of what just happened, before turning to study Lily Salvatore once more. "I don't know what made your heart grow four sizes today," Caroline breathed, "but thanks."

Before Lily could reply, Caroline zoomed out of the house as quickly as she could.

* * *

The journey back to the college campus was quiet. Bonnie rode shotgun to Alaric, while Damon took a nap in the backseat, next to Rebecca. Oscar's unconscious and vervain-drugged body was in the trunk. Bonnie considered turning on the radio, but, after the day he had, Damon needed his rest.

She, however, had never felt more alive. Relief consumed her. She could feel that the visions were successfully gone like a thick fog lifted from her mind. Her magic felt bright again, instead of something murky. She was excited, in spite of her thinly pursed lips whenever Alaric even tried to look in her direction. Though still irked by his deception, she wanted to revel in her magic freedom.

She turned to spark a conversation with the other female in the car, but the scene of the backseat needed a moment to settle. Damon's face was pressed onto Rebecca's leg as he slept, an arm wrapped around her thigh like it was a pillow. Rebecca slipped her fingers through his hair methodically as she peered out the window pensively. For someone who adamantly professed his heart as solely Elena's, Damon threaded thin ice by being so comfortable with his old friend.

"Have you and Damon ever…?"

Rebecca's light eyes traveled to Bonnie's suspicious ones. Without emotion, she replied, "No. Damon can have a meaningful, non-sexual relationship with a female if he wants."

Bonnie seemed to have struck a nerve. She didn't think her question would offend someone so similar to Damon; Damon would have spun it into a joke, whether his answer was affirmative or the opposite. "I doubt _that_ ," Bonnie muttered, turning back in her seat.

"Then, when do _you_ plan on sleeping with him?" she heard Rebecca's sharp remark. Bonnie felt Alaric's eyes on her hot face, knowing he was smirking, but she couldn't reveal her embarrassment. "I know it's hard to believe, really," Rebecca amended softly. Bonnie turned back, with a hard expression, to study the vampire's face. "You know what he's like… Flirty, sweet, but when he's with that _one girl_ …" Rebecca looked down at Damon's sleeping body. "He's fiercely loyal."

"He has always been like this?" Bonnie muttered, eyeing the slacked face vampire as well. Rebecca smirked knowingly.

"Ever since he started getting under skirts." Typical Damon response. "Damon was quite the heartbreaker. He and my brother, Ezekiel, had probably slept with every girl in the town by the time they…" Bonnie noted the falter as Rebecca averted her eyes for a moment. "By the time they went into the army," Rebecca continued quietly. "When they returned, Damon's heart was captivated by Katherine, and my brother got married.

"And what about you?" Bonnie inquired, raising a brow. Rebecca returned the gesture. "Well, you're too much like Damon not to have a line of boys waiting for you."

Rebecca gave a winning smile, so similar to Damon's, Bonnie wondered who originally forged it. "Most of the boys were intrigued by me… I spent my free time wearing my brother's clothes, learning all of the boys' games, instead of having tea and gossiping. The girls, they covered up their jealousy by shunning me, but the boys found me even more… _appealing_."

"Does _he_ know all of your endeavors?"

Rebecca laughed a little, combing her fingers through his hair affectionately. Bonnie could see there was more to the story than Rebecca was sharing. "Damon, Ezekiel, and I had a pact; we'd cover for one another if we were with our current flame—so, yeah, he knew what I was up to… but he only knew about a few of them." A wicked smile spread across her face. "Mainly because most of them were his friends."

"Well, damn," Alaric muttered, and the girls shared a giggle. The car suddenly stopped, and Bonnie realized Alaric parked by his on-campus apartment. "Here we are… You should, uh—"

"Are we here?"

Damon sat up, wiping the drool from the corner of his mouth. Bonnie laughed at Rebecca's disgusted expression and at Damon's ruffled fair. Damon gave Rebecca a lazy smile, blowing her a kiss; she grabbed his face, pushing his cheeks together, and shook his face affectionately. When his eyebrows furrowed, Rebecca laughed and rolled her eyes. Bonnie realized the relationship between the two was much like her relationship with him, only more… _hands-on_.

"Do you need help hiding the body?" Rebecca offered, eyeing Damon's still groggy expression. He rubbed both hands over his face and sighed.

"No, I'll find a place to hook him up to some vervain…" Damon's eyes were wild as he thought aloud. "I'll need Bon to put a cloaking spell on him, so I'll come back to pick you guys up. Just in case something happens to me, you and Alaric can keep an eye on the witchy bloodsucker."

"Nothing is going to happen to you," Bonnie urged with knit brows.

"I doubt _Mommy Dearest_ is going to go through a trade-off without her precious Heretics," Damon sneered.

"You must really love her," Rebecca murmured, eyeing her friend with curiosity. Bonnie felt like she was impeding on an intimate moment; she caught Alaric averted his eyes awkwardly too.

"I do, Beck." Damon's voice was gentle, the tone he only used when it came to Elena. "I really do."

* * *

Alaric watched Rebecca sway around his kitchen like there was slow music playing. She flitted around his kitchen like she had lived there for years; even he had difficult remembering where he stored his jar of honey. What he didn't forget were the several caches he had around his small apartment, specifically for wooden stakes. Rebecca may have been Damon's friend in a past life, but Damon couldn't vouch for her current self.

Before Damon left, Alaric took the three to his office, to retrieve every book he owned related to witch relics. Damon and Rebecca quickly and childishly made a competition out of how many books they could carry. Then, they upped the ante by making the competition about how fast they could get to the apartment without dropping any books. Damon may have died as a twenty four year old man, but Alaric noted how _easily_ Rebecca brought out the teenager in him. When the stacks of hardcover books towered on Alaric's small dining table, Damon declared himself the winner—though Rebecca had arrived a few seconds before he had—and left abruptly. Rebecca laughed with shock before shaking her head and declaring she needed tea.

Among all of this, Alaric noted Bonnie's quiet observation. Alaric had attempted to reign the childish vampires, but he had given up as they sped away. Bonnie hadn't spoken to him since they took down Oscar, but Alaric could tell the tension between them had dissipated. The two traveled to his apartment at their human pace, and when they finally arrived, Bonnie plopped down at the table and cracked her neck. She picked up a book, absentmindedly accepted Rebecca's offer for a cup of tea, and dissolved into reading.

Alaric went into his room to change his shirt and find one of his many gin bottles. He tilted the bottle back to take a swig as he studied the photos littering his dresser. One was with him and Elena, another with him and Jeremy. He still had a photo of Jenna and the kids. He had a few of him and Damon, Stefan, even Bonnie and Caroline. Despite his twisted luck with women, he still had found a place to belong. He took another gulp when he stared at the large frame for multiple photographs, all of him and Jo. He pushed it onto its face before leaving the room.

"Switch." Alaric witnessed Rebecca extending a white mug to Bonnie while another hand grabbed the book Bonnie was reading. Bonnie complied, sipping the tea with a smile, and picked up another book. Rebecca settled onto the sofa with her own cup and began scrutinizing each page.

"So, what does a rock that makes you see screaming people have to do with reincarnations?" Alaric looked up from his own book, seeing Bonnie's puzzled expression as she was already chapters deep into the other book. He glanced at the text and sighed.

"I don't know, but I read that book already, cover to cover." Bonnie raised a brow, and he sighed again. "It's a waste of time. In fact, all of these are a waste of time."

"Then, why did we even bring them here?" Rebecca asked under her breath. She sounded like a bitter teenager. If doppelgangers could be of the opposite sex, Alaric was sure Rebecca would be Damon's.

"Extra pair of eyes for the search," Bonnie replied without turning back. The look she gave Alaric, however, mirrored Rebecca's protest.

"They talk about resurrection," Alaric explained, leaning on his elbows. Bonnie raised a brow. "The Phoenix rising from the ashes… but nothing about a stone that brings people back from the dead."

"Are you _sure_ you understand what you're trying to do?" Alaric frowned at Bonnie's accusation. Her brows pinched together, and he could feel her jade eyes search him for a sensible answer. "it's not like Jo's spirit is behind a veil that we can lift, and she magically appears."

"I know," Alaric protested though his voice was small. He raked his fingers through his hair and tugged the strands, feeling like a crazy man. Maybe he was a crazy man, crazy for thinking, for one _second_ that he could be happy with a beautiful genius like Josette Laughlin.

"This is _necromancy_." He knew Bonnie was trying to convince him to move on, and he was tempted. Just like when he almost dissolved the Phoenix Stone in the hydrochloric acid. If he hadn't noticed the dog-eared photograph of him and his dead fiancé, he would have lost the one hope he had been clutching onto. Bonnie was young; despite all of the death she had seen, she didn't understand.

"I want to show you something," Alaric declared. He stood abruptly, causing Bonnie's eyebrows to slam down with confusion. He glanced over at Rebecca on the sofa, but she had slumped to the side with the book lying on her chest. "Before Rebecca wakes up, come on."

If there was one way Alaric knew for certain, it was that seeing the lifeless body made reality a little more real.

* * *

"…hello?" Damon heard Rebecca's low hum as she answered the phone. The sound of her gravelly voice made Damon frown. From experience, she only sounded this way if she had been sleeping or if she had been crying. All day, he had noticed something was off about her, but he had chalked it up to both of them assimilating to one another again. Their race to Alaric's apartment, however, was light and fun, just like old times.

"Were you sleeping?" he ventured cautiously. If she had been crying, she wouldn't offer her answer easily.

"Yeah, I had fallen asleep while reading." He heard her yawn, sounding like a cat's meow. "And it seems that the humans have slipped out for a midnight stroll."

"Is Bonnie's bag still there?"

"Nope." Her blasé response was a relief; at least someone didn't take his best friends on Rebecca's poor watch. "How are things going for you?"

Damon eyed Oscar's body shift on the metal cart he had dumped him on as if he could hear Rebecca's inquiry. Damon had already hooked up the Heretic on a vervain drip, so the movement was the extent of his abilities.

"He's hooked up and ready to… well, to _stay_." Damon smirked at Rebecca's girly giggle. He had forgotten how much he had tried to make her laugh when they were teenagers. The thought startled him. "I'll tell Alaric to haul ass back to you, so you guys can meet me here. Bonnie will do the spell, and I will do a little negotiating."

"Sounds like a plan." He heard the smile in her voice. He also heard the trust and faith she had always had in him. He had changed since their human years… she shouldn't be so devoted to her.

When he hung up with her, he took a walk as he called Alaric. He told his friend to get Rebecca and bring the girls to his location, the abandoned wing of the College of Medicine building. Damon knew about this building because of Alaric, who shared all his dirty details about his escapades with Jo. He could tell Alaric was slightly uncomfortable when he mentioned the drunken story, but Damon didn't have time to coddle his friend—not that he was one to do so.

After the brief conversation, Damon sighed and dialed his mother's number. Why did he become a wounded child when it came to Lily? He hadn't been mothered for over two centuries. He had buried the hatchet. Her sudden reappearance in his life shouldn't affect him.

"Hello?"

"You should have come yourself," he began. He didn't mean to start there, but his volatile nature got the best of him.

"It's been a long day," Lily sighed. She sounded tired, like when she was a sick human. Damon bit his lip for a moment. "I have no energy for riddles." What she didn't realize was his affinity for riddles had been inherited from her.

"Gettysburg, 1863," he reminded her sharply. "You sent Oscar to check on me." Her silence indicated her recollection. "Had it been you, it'd change the entire course of my life."

"I was supposed to be dead."

"And I was supposed to be your _son_ ," he shot back, enraged by her statement. Damon felt so transparent with the woman it made his skin crawl. He was better than this.

"How do you know this?"

Damon heard the double doors to the hall open slowly. He continued walking down the hall, avoiding furniture and construction tarps. "Your prodigal Heretic was fear-and-loathing in the armpit of Myrtle Beach," he replied dryly.

"Oscar," Lily breathed. He noted the horror and the worry mixed in her voice. The vampire smiled. He loved having the upper hand.

"Oh, don't worry, Mommy," Damon mocked as he entered the room with Oscar's drugged body. "He's in the middle of a vervain detox." His voice darkened as he demanded, "Give me Elena, and _maybe_ I won't kill him."

"You will _not_ lay a hand on another member of my family." Her tone was stern, but his vampire hearing allowed him to hear the quiver in her voice. Lily never liked disciplining her children, almost always handing that power over to Giuseppe. Damon's eyes narrowed a little at the thought.

"You know, this whole _family_ thing really irked me at first," Damon admitted as he traveled out of the room. "But now, I get it. You loved me. Time passed. You moved on to a new family." He spotted Alaric and Bonnie, both studying him with crossed arms. Bonnie began chanting the cloaking spell over the room, making Damon smile. "So did I. So, why don't we end this mutual disdain once and for all? Give me Elena, and you get your son back."

* * *

Stefan poured his third glass for the evening. He felt like his brother; Damon had started drinking the day of their mother's funeral. What a coincidence, Stefan was drinking because of his torturously day with Lily. Damon, the rude and selfish brother of his, never messaged him an update on the situation. This was one of the main reasons Stefan never partnered with his brother; Damon was used to being the lone wolf, trusting only himself.

Tipping his head back all the day, Stefan downed the whiskey, letting it slid down his throat with ease. He splashed more into the glass, vaguely wondering why he hadn't just guzzled from the bottle. Unfortunately, Stefan's nature had to be about moderation; he would want to know how many drinks he had before he could feel his senses slip from him.

He closed his eyes and rubbed a hand over his face. He nearly contemplated sending Damon a text, but he knew Damon would retort with a comment about his childish impatience or a comment referring to Caroline as Barbie or Care Bear. In that moment, the last thing Stefan could handle was his brother's immaturity or his dry humor.

The only sound in the Lockwood mansion was the crackle of the fire, the splash of liquor, and Stefan's own breathing. When he heard light footsteps, he stood face whatever opposition intruded his temporary home. His eyes widened at the sight of an alert Caroline walking into the sitting room.

"Caroline!" he nearly shouted, eyeing her for wellbeing.

She smiled with relief as he rushed to her with vigor, reaching to grip her arms and pull her into an embrace, but his hands immediately burned when he touched her. They both sighed, avoiding each other's gaze. It was obvious how desperate they were to be in the other's arms; it was only fitting for the occasion.

"How did you escape?" he inquired quietly, glancing around as if she had been followed. Caroline breathed a laugh, shaking her head.

"I didn't…" Her face scrunched as the situation seemed to confuse her too. "Lily let me go."

Stefan's eyebrows rose, studying Caroline curiously. Lily stood by her word that she would talk to her daughter Heretics about the torture Caroline endured. "She did?" It didn't sound like his mother; when they were younger, his mother was known for never shortening or lessening their punishments.

Though it didn't erase the past, Stefan allowed himself to feel grateful toward his mother. He wanted to tuck some hair behind Caroline's ear, cup her face, pull her in for a kiss—but he couldn't. Besides, the dark look glazed over her usually cheery eyes.

"Yeah, I guess today is just _full_ of 'Valerie-sized' surprises, huh?"

* * *

Though the vervain had worked its way out of her system, Caroline felt weak. Stefan pursed his lips at her accusation, but she ignored him as she lowered herself to sit on the floor. She felt him watch her as she eyed the liquor bottle on the floor. What caused him to cradle a bottle like his brother? More importantly, did she want a drink?

"Look, I was just a kid when I met her," Stefan reasoned, pulling her out of her internal debate. "Just a troubled boy, mourning his dead mom…" Her eyes flickered up to meet his hazel ones, feeling the hope beginning to bubble in her chest. "I was young and human."

Just like that, the feeling disappeared, and she felt envy fill the hollow space.

"I was young and human when you and I met," Caroline countered as he sat next to her, "and I remember the _exact_ moment when I first met you. Do you remember the first time you ever saw me?"

Stefan's blank stare answered her undeserved question. She squeezed her eyes shut. Why was Valerie's role in Stefan's life affecting her so much? That was hundreds of years ago.

"I'm so sorry; that was totally unfair," Caroline rushed with an apologetic gaze. "Just please forget I asked… I mean, you were even sitting next to Elena, so, _of course_ , you only had eyes for her—"

"Things have changed." Stefan cut into her rambling easily. He had been her friend before their friendship seemed to blur lines. He knew how to handle her personality with patience and grace. "Different circumstances, different results."

"Here's a different circumstance," Caroline retorted. "Valerie is out of the prison world. Does that change anything for you?"

"Of course not," Stefan breathed, eyeing her like she was a mystical being. She was a vampire, a predator, but nothing that merited the stare Stefan held on her.

"You don't wonder what would have happened if Valerie would have shown up to meet you?" she pressed exasperatedly. She didn't want to pursue this relationship if Valerie would complicate it. Besides, Caroline knew she would tear herself apart with the possibility if she were in Stefan's shoes.

"I don't wonder anymore." He lifted his hand to cup her face but remembered the spell cast on her. He put her hand on her shoulder, covered by a jacket. "I don't care about the past, Caroline," he said softly. She searched his smiling face for the lie. "All I care about is that you're here, and you're safe… and that you're here, with me."

* * *

Bonnie fumbled to find her keys in her bag as she felt Damon's eyes on her. He had offered to escort her back to her room, putting an arm around her small shoulders with ease. It felt familiar to the two since their true friendship budded in the 1994 prison world. But all Bonnie could think about was Rebecca's retort from the car ride back to campus.

"Well, thanks for walking me back to my room." She avoided eye contact as she walked into her dormitory room, her mind reeling with the details of the day. She added snidely, "Though you know I can handle myself."

"Oh, that I do know," Damon chuckled. "But I just had to make sure for myself, you see." She stole a glance at him, leaning against the doorframe, watching her flit around her room. Suddenly, he asked, "Are you okay?"

Bonnie tilted her head curiously, mischief sparking in her jade eyes. "Damon, are you insinuating you care about someone other than yourself?" Damon smirked, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms.

Suddenly, he was standing in front of the short witch. Her breath caught in her throat, eliciting another smug smile from the vampire. "I am capable of having a meaningful relationship with a female, if I wanted," he breathed, quoting Rebecca. Bonnie's eyes widened.

"You were _awake_?" Her face flushed with color, but Damon's piercing gaze dared her to keep eye contact. He smiled wider at her embarrassment.

"I was resting my eyes, not my ears," he teased. On a serious note, he said, "I have a heart you know… but, from experience, we both know how careless people can be when we bear our all."

"You are one of these people," Bonnie countered defiantly.

"Oh, Bon-bon, I'm _trying_ to be better," he whined childishly. She giggled, causing him to flash a winning smile. "Now, answer my question."

Bonnie hummed, captivated by his blue eyes. "I'm fine," she managed to lie. "Alaric just wants me to defy nature and raise the _dead_."

"You know you don't have to," Damon offered. She knew that, but the sad look in Alaric's eyes was parallel to the one Damon had for months after Elena's magical coma. "Alaric has had many 'loves-of-his-life'."

"Yet, Jo is the only one he adamantly tried to get back." Bonnie raised a triumphant brow as Damon broke their staring contest to contemplate her words. "I have to, at least, try to get her back."

Damon nodded and sighed, "One of us should get our girl."

"Hey," Bonnie interrupted his uncharacteristic self-pity. His eyes lifted to meet hers. He looked like he needed some reassurance, some hope. Taking a note from Rebecca's friendship with the dark haired vampire, Bonnie reached and squeezed his hand for comfort. "I know you're heartbroken, but… don't think you're in this alone."

When she offered a reassuring smile, he pulled her into an unexpected hug. She buried her face in his t-shirt, enjoying the ease of the embrace. Maybe Rebecca was right about him—maybe he _was_ capable of a platonic friendship with a female. Encased in his muscular arms, though, Bonnie felt her blood rushing again.

"You know, if you want me to hug you more often…" Bonnie pulled away from the smug vampire with a sharp look. "Or if you _need_ me to—"

"You sure know how to ruin a heartfelt moment." Bonnie made a show of rolling her eyes at his notion, returning to her dresser to get a t-shirt and pajama shorts.

"How's this for heartfelt? Thank you." She turned to him, seeing his genuine expression. "Thank you for being patient with me, through this whole thing."

"Rebecca seems to have a weird effect on you," Bonnie muttered, eyeing him curiously. His eyebrows scrunched down. "You've acted more human in this one day than in all the time I've known you."

"I _was_ human when she and I last saw each other," Damon reasoned. Bonnie, however, knew these must be more to the story.

"You're welcome," she finally said, referring to his confession. "By some cosmic twist of events, you've become one of my best friends, and…" She smiled at him kindly. "I'd do anything for the ones I care about."

* * *

 **Tossed in a little Bamon for you guys ;) Hope you're enjoying it! Have a lovely day!**

 **Don't forget to review!**

 **xo,**

 **glass27doll**


	8. Bump in the Road

**A/N: MERRY CHRISTMAS MY LOVES! Thanks for the favorites and follows everyone!**

 **I'm trying to catch up with the nine episodes we already have, just in time for Jan. 29th!**

 **This season has been crazy and intriguing!**

 **Send me some reviews/critiques/suggestions, I'd love to read them!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own any of the TVD characters/plotlines/dialogue. I only own the Suttons and their storylines.**

* * *

 **Chapter 8**

Bump in the Road

After Rebecca had walked Alaric back to the apartment, she left because she knew Alaric didn't trust her. She took her usual midnight stroll, hoping that Alaric would have fallen asleep by the time she returned and that Damon would be settled in their bed already. When she returned, Alaric was already in his bed, passed out with a gin bottle in his hand; she set it on the nightstand and blanketed him. For a moment, she watched him and pressed a kiss to his forehead. He reminded her of her late husband.

Damon, however, had not returned yet.

Hugging the cool pillow they set as their boundary, Rebecca peered through her lashes at the other occupant of the bed. The first night, Damon spent the entire night on his side, his back to her, as if he was afraid to even look in her direction. That was what she was expecting, or even his slack face pressed into his pillow. To her surprise, however, he was already awake. She saw his contorted face by the glow of his cell phone screen.

"I didn't really expect you to be this person," she mumbled, her body still half-asleep. He glanced over at his friend, her face pressed into their separator pillow, and he smiled a little. It was a sweet smile, like the ones he had given her when she'd fall asleep waiting for their parents to return from their Council meetings.

"To check my phone first thing in the morning?"

"That, and to be up before the sun." He gave her a deadpanned look, which made her smile into the pillow. "We are creatures of the night, and I know you would take that _very_ seriously," she teased, leaning closer to him out of habit. "Who owes you money?" she inquired, referring to whomever he was texting so early.

"I was seeing if my witch is awake," he explained offhandedly. Rebecca noted how he casually used a possessive adjective to refer to Bonnie. He expelled a defeated sigh, turning the screen off and placing on his chest. They were cloaked in darkness. "Unfortunately, she's as much as a night owl as _you_ are."

"You sure do know how to pick 'em," Rebecca teased, her eyes trying to adjust to the darkness. "Why were you texting her?"

"You jealous, Beck?"

"That you're texting another girl while in bed with me?" Rebecca joked. "Unless you're giving me a reason to be, sweetheart, then I'm just as curious as a cat."

Damon chuckled a little, and she barely saw him pushed back his hair from his forehead. "I doubt Lily is going to show up without, at least, one of her witch-pires, so I figured I'd have a little magic up my own sleeve."

"I can go with you, if you'd like," Rebecca offered. "It's not like I have much of a purpose."

"Speaking of which…" She felt him shift in the darkness. The bed was a full-size, so they were close; she could feel his breath against her face. "Why _are_ you here?"

"I've…" Rebecca sighed, nestling into the pillow in her arms as she braced herself. "I've visited Mystic Falls every decade… you know, to pay respects to my loved ones' graves…"

"You've visited mine?"

She heard the playfulness in his speech, and she smiled a little to herself. She was thankful that, even when she talked about death and every loss that tore her heart, Damon could still make the mood light. He had never failed to do that before, and he seemed to keep it going strong.

"I've visited yours, Stefan's; Lily's… my siblings, my mother's…"

"Your husband's?"

"Ah, I see you're still an eavesdropper.' Rebecca chuckled dryly. When he didn't respond, she replied, "Yes, of course, I visit his grave too."

"Who was he?" Damon asked. His voice sounded different, but she couldn't place the emotion tainting it.

"Someone we can talk about once all of this drama blows over," Rebecca declared. "Do you think I'll finally be able to see Stefan today?"

"When I get Elena back, I'll take you anywhere you want."

"Well, let's get to it then."

Damon reached next to him to turn on the lamp, causing both of them to groan from its yellow light. The dark-haired vampire climbed out of the bed first; Rebecca watched him step out of his pajama pants and into a pair of fitted jeans. Still shirtless, he silently debated between a black t-shirt and a blue one, before choosing the classic black. He arched a brow to her when he caught her staring from the comfort of the blankets and pillows.

"Would you like me to pick out your clothes for you too?" he teased though he was already rifling through her belongings. Rebecca sighed, stretching, and pushed herself out of the bed. Damon eyed her sleeping attire with a creased brow. "That's what you wore to sleep?"

Rebecca looked down at her thin tank top with little hearts all over it and underwear covered with cartoon cats.

"Are we not adults?" she challenged. "Do we not have some sort of self-control?" She smirked as his eyes lingered for a moment too long on her bare legs. She snatched the outfit he chose for her. "Can you go make some coffee, please?"

Reluctantly detaching his gaze, he nodded dutifully and left the room. Rebecca laughed under her breath as she finished dressing. She went to the bathroom, brushed her teeth, brushed her hair, washed her face. She put her rings on, her thumbs adjusting the jewelry on her ring fingers. As she entered the small kitchen, she nearly walked into Damon holding a mug. He offered it, and she took it with a grateful smile. He seemed to avoid her eyes.

There was no need for this hot-and-cold game he was playing. She had always respected his relationships in the past. The flirty banter was just their way of friendship.

"Do you think your mom will want her ring back?" Rebecca asked as she raised the mug to her puckering lips. He studied the ring on her finger before looking at her eyes. "You know, since she's undead and everything," she continued after her sip.

"Even if she does, it's just too bad." Damon's heated statement was a hiss; Alaric was still asleep in the other room, so they stood close and spoke with hushed voices. "She gave up the right to have it when she turned and never came back."

"Damon…" She took his hand, causing him to look down at her hand encasing his tightly. His expression was blank. "You should, at least, try to forgive her. Especially if she decides to stay. She's alive, Damon… there's no longer a reason to leave your relationship the way you did."

He retracted his hand from hers. "Would you amend things with George?"

Rebecca's body stiffened at the mention of her father's name. After centuries, her blood still ran cold whenever he came up in her consciousness. She glared at her friend's already narrowed eyes. He knew better than to compare what his mother did to the monster her father had always been.

"Would you have forgiven Giuseppe?" she countered, taking a gulp of the scalding coffee. It burnt, but her tongue healed immediately. "Because that's the comparison you _should_ be making. However, if you asked if I would forgive my mother, for letting my father carry on the way you did, then yes, Damon. I would forgive my mother."

"My mother didn't _just_ let it happen, Beck." Damon's jaw set. Rebecca's fear driven heart stopped when she saw his anger dissipate into sorrow. His pause was to deliberate his next words, to put up barriers, to limit the amount of emotion he revealed. "She _let_ it happen, _and_ , when she was free, she never came _back_ for us." Damon's eyes were wild, searching Rebecca's frowning face. "She left us with an abusive drunk—she left her golden boy, _Stefan_. I know she didn't have any qualms leaving _me_ , but _Stefan_ —"

"Okay," Rebecca interrupted, holding a finger to his mouth. She could feel his heavy breath as she wrapped her free arm around his torso and pressed her face to his chest in an embrace. "It's okay, Damon. I'm sorry. If you can't forgive her, I can understand."

He didn't bother to return the hug. He pried her away from his body and began to walk out of the small apartment. "Let's go," he said, already at the door.

* * *

"Has Stefan changed much?"

Rebecca hadn't said anything on their walk over to the College of Medicine building. He practically heard her mouth burning as she downed her steaming coffee before following him out the door. She kept her hands tucked into her cardigan pockets, making no effort to hold his hand or link their arms. He wouldn't take back what he had said about his mother, but he did regret the _way_ he spoke to Rebecca and how poorly handled her attempt to comfort him.

"If you mean, is he still super sensitive and the sweetheart of the town?" Damon didn't mean to sound as bitter as he did. He avoided her eyes. "Yeah, he is. With a Ripper alter ego."

"You must have had your hands full."

Tempted to join her laughter at her own joke, Damon felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. All of him hoped it was Bonnie. That way, he'd be able to send Rebecca home as Alaric's protection, to have Bonnie swoop in as his backup, to alleviate this guilt by putting Rebecca out of sight…

But when an unknown number flashed on the screen, Damon knew who it had to be.

"Mother?" he answered. He could hear her breathing, so he didn't hesitate to demand, "Tell me you have Elena."

"Let me speak to Oscar," his mother countered. He felt Rebecca's eyes on him as he smiled tightly.

"No can do. See, I'm about to wake him up from his little vervain nap," he replied easily, stepping over some debris left in the middle of the unfinished hall.

"You _do_ realize that when you get her back, you're not _actually_ getting her back, right?" Lily erupted suddenly. Damon nearly crushed his phone. Lily had no standing to snap at him like that; he didn't care if she mothered him until he was seventeen—she was nothing to him now. "She's still in a _box_."

"You think I need to be reminded of that?" he shot back. He felt Rebecca's hand on his shoulder, but he instinctively shook her way.

"And yet you're leveraging a member of my family just to get her body closer to you. How _selfish_ can you be?" Damon sneered at his mother's reprimanding tone. What a hypocrite.

"Spare me the lecture, Mommy." Rebecca scoffed, and Damon caught the blonde rolling her eyes. At him or his mother, he couldn't discern.

"Damon, if you have harmed Oscar in _any_ way—"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Damon droned, opened the door to Oscar's room for Rebecca absentmindedly. " ' _Say good bye to Elena_ '… it's not my first hostage swap." He hung up, smiling at his own joke, before following Rebecca into the room.

"Uh oh."

He bumped into the still vampire as she had only taken a step into the room. He frowned, following her gaze. The metal table was empty. Oscar was gone.

"Oscar…" Damon called, ignoring Rebecca's utterance. "I can smell the blood on you, buddy…"

The two split up; Rebecca checked behind the tarp that separated the makeshift torture room and the rest of the room. Damon neared the only cabinet in the room, smelling the strong scent of stale blood. He stared at the door, hoping he was wrong, but when he ripped the door open, he stepped back.

A heartless, desiccated Oscar slumped out and thudded onto the linoleum.

"You've _got_ to be kidding me," Damon groaned, glaring at his lost leverage.

* * *

Bonnie woke to the light on her cell phone blinking by the side of her bed. She picked it up and saw the many missed text messages from Damon:

 ** _Good morning Bon Bon_**

 ** _Okay, I can see why you're so beautiful, Sleeping Beauty._**

 ** _Rise and shine, little witch!_**

 ** _Requesting all Bonnie Bennetts to the Saltzman residence_**

 ** _Bonnie, I need you._**

 ** _I'm going to do the hostage swap with Lily._**

 ** _Wish you'd be there with me. I could use a sidekick._**

 ** _Sleep well, Bonnie._**

Bonnie groaned, rubbing her face with her free hand. She felt bad for sleeping in, leaving Damon to do the exchange by himself. She knew he wasn't being sentimental when he said he needed her; Lily could very well have brought all of her Heretics as back up. At the bottom of the notification bar, Bonnie noticed the last text message was from Stefan.

 ** _Caroline is safe. She's on her way back to Whitmore._**

Sitting up suddenly, Bonnie glanced over to her roommate's bed. Caroline's blonde hair splayed over her pillow, and Bonnie could hear her soft snoring. A grin covered Bonnie's face as she kept herself from being emotional. She was so glad Caroline was safe.

As much as she wanted to stay with Caroline, to make up for the time they had lost, Bonnie had to figure out a way to bring back Jo. Now that Caroline was safe, she could put all of her attention into fulfilling her promise to Alaric.

Since she showered the night before, after Damon left her, she dressed quickly and gathered her things as silently as she could. Caroline needed rest more than anything, especially if she was being tortured by the Heretics. Bonnie loved her best friend and wanted the best for her—even if it meant leaving her to sleep a little longer as Bonnie snuck out.

"Ahem."

Bonnie's shoulders scrunched up at the dramatic sound of Caroline clearing her throat. Bonnie really hadn't wanted Caroline to catch her leaving. She turned around with an apologetic smile. "I didn't want to wake you," she explained gently.

"Well, I'd lose more sleep if you just snuck out without saying hi," Caroline drawled as she sat up. The blonde patted the bed next to her, and Bonnie grinned before hopping on the bed. Both giggled as they embraced tightly. Bonnie rested her chin on Caroline's shoulder; she felt like they were teens again.

"Hi," Bonnie hummed while still hugging Caroline.

"Oh, I missed this," her best friend sighed.

Bonnie's eyebrows pinched together as she asked playfully, "Am I going to catch fire?"

Caroline gave a laugh that sounded like a whine as they separated. "No! I just can't touch vampires. Valerie basically turned my skin into vervain," Caroline grumbled, rubbing her hands over her sleepy face. Bonnie knew this already, Stefan had explained it with much anger, but she let her best friend vent.

"I'll work on unraveling that spell as soon as I can," Bonnie promised, putting a hand on her friend's shoulder, rubbing her thumb against her skin for reassurance.

" _Stop_ ," Caroline drawled. Bonnie raised a brow. "We have _so much_ to catch up on! Let's just go shopping for Halloween costumes, and we can worry about magic _later_."

"Well, I'm kind of already worrying about magic today." Bonnie rolled her eyes at her own statement. When wasn't she worrying about magic? She didn't like being exploited for her magical abilities, but her friends tended to get themselves into situations that warranted her help. Like she told Damon, she'd do anything for her friends. "Alaric thinks we can reunite Jo's spirit with her body using some sketchy Native American resurrection stone. My job is to _crush_ his dreams in the _gentlest_ way possible."

"Wow, okay." Caroline's blue eyes were round with shock. Bonnie's lips pursed. She forgot Caroline had missed all the Phoenix Stone drama when she was in captivity. The blonde's eyebrows were drawn together as she asked, "You don't even think it'll work?"

"I don't think it should." Bonnie sighed with a shrug. "The other Side is gone. There're no more Gemini prison worlds. All that means that Jo's spirit…" Bonnie's eyes brightened with realization and hope. "Probably at peace."

Caroline inhaled deeply, staring ahead of her with an immoveable quizzical expression. Bonnie sat next to her friend, quietly, allowing her to process what Bonnie had weeks to contemplate.

"Our lives are weird."

'Tell me about it."

After her scoff, the witch rested her head on her childhood friend's shoulder. Though Bonnie had no choice, drawn into a world like this, Caroline could have had a normal life. Had it not been for Elena… Bonnie squeezed her eyes shut, cursing herself for even blaming her comatose best friend for all of this. Still, the heat of her anger toward the "Sleeping Beauty" lingered.

Bonnie wished she should shirk her promise to Alaric, to skip all of her classes—just to stay with Caroline. It was Halloween, and Caroline took every holiday very seriously, one of the things Bonnie loved about her best friend. The blonde vampire should be dragging Bonnie all over town, searching for the perfect costumes, and they should be going to a party, loosening up for once.

For Bonnie, her life was always Halloween. She was always wearing her witch costume.

"I bet I have a mountain of work to make up," Caroline muttered, her cheek pressed to Bonnie's hair. "And there's this Heaven and Hell dance that I wanted to go to…" She sighed. "I just wanted a normal college life."

"You're a vampire. I'm a witch." That was all Bonnie could offer. "I have to get going anyways, so I'll leave you to your work." Bonnie reluctantly took her head from Caroline's shoulder. "And I _promise_ , once I'm done with all of this nonsense, I'll find out how to undo the spell."

"Thanks, Bonnie." Caroline's lips barely perked into a smile. Bonnie knew the feeling. Suddenly, she wrapped her arms around her best friend tightly.

"I'm really glad you're back," Bonnie muttered. "I don't know what I would do without you, Care."

"Be a badass witch, avenging my death and causing havoc for those dumb Heretics," Caroline replied immediately, causing both girls to giggle. The vampire leaned into the hug and sighed. "But I'm glad to be back too."

* * *

"It's open!"

Stefan strolled into Alaric's on-campus apartment when Damon had shouted through the unlocked door. Then, he stopped when he saw the gray, desiccated man slumped in one of Alaric's armchairs. Damon stood next to the man with his wild thinking eyes; his arms folded across his chest as a hand tugged at his bottom lip, a habit he had since they were children.

When Damon called, declaring there was a "bump in the road", Stefan had thought the Heretic slipped from Damon's grasp. Stefan was more than happy to track down Lily's missing family member with his older brother—vampires were built to track, to chase, to hunt—but Stefan hadn't expected this.

"How the _hell_ did you let this happen?" Stefan demanded as soon as he tore his eyes away from the dead vampire.

"Don't even _think_ about blaming this one!" Damon's glare matched Stefan's. "I'm not the one who _unscrewed_ his heart!"

"No," Stefan agreed with an edged tone. "You're just the one who chased him down, _kidnapped_ him, and are still, technically, holding him hostage," the younger Salvatore listed.

"To get Elena back!" Damon declared in his defense.

"And how's that working for you, Brother?" Stefan taunted. "Because, from where I'm standing, she's in more danger than ever because _you_ won't let her rest."

Damon scrutinized his brother through a disbelieving squint. "You spent _one_ day with Mommy Dearest, and now you're on _her_ side?"

"I don't _have_ to be on her side to see what's happening here." Stefan rolled his eyes at Damon's still suspicious glare. "You can't _be_ with Elena, so you're making all of these bad decisions _about_ Elena."

"Hey, Damon, I'm ba…"

Both brothers, still tense from arguing, turned to the door. Stefan's expression slackened as he studied the tall blonde woman holding a fast food paper bag and soft drink in one hand and staring intently at her cell phone in the other. She was wearing one of Damon's t-shirts, a pair of ripped jeans, and sandals. Her hair was in a messy braid, resting on her shoulder; her face was painted with light makeup.

No matter how modern, Stefan knew this was no doppelganger or any crazy look-alike.

"Stefan!" Rebecca cried as a smile erupted on her face. With her vampire speed, she set her things down and tackled her childhood friend with a fierce hug. He automatically hugged her back, inhaling her familiar sweet and minty scent.

"Rebecca?" Stefan's mind was spinning. "How… when… who…?"

"She's a bit fuzzy on the details," Damon interjected. Stefan saw Damon's nostalgic smile over Rebecca's shoulder, but he had also heard the distrust in his brother's voice. "Apparently, it was a few years after we left."

"Wait… you knew she was alive, and you didn't even tell me?" Stefan demanded of his brother, reluctantly pulling himself away from the blonde. Damon shrugged; these sentimental moments never really held much weight for Damon.

"Hey, it's okay, Stef. I told him not to." Stefan could tell Rebecca was lying to protect Damon, like she had done many times in the past, but he had been too young to notice. He didn't comment on it, eyeing the two curiously. "Oh my goodness, I am _so_ happy to see you!" she shrieked uncharacteristically with an elastic smile. Stefan's suspicion dissipated as a smile took over his face. "We have so much to catch up on!"

"Yeah, two centuries worth of memories…" Stefan laughed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "I just can't believe you're alive… I—" He glanced at Damon's hard stare; his brother wouldn't want her to know, but Stefan had to say it. " _We_ mourned over you… all of you."

"Disappointed I'm not Lottie, aren't ya?" Rebecca teased, nudging him with her elbow. Stefan chuckled a little, lowering his eyes at the accusation. "That's okay, though. I'm sure Damon was wishing for Ezekiel or even… what was her name? Mary Hall?"

Stefan watched his brother's discomfort quickly transition into a glib joke. "I'm just glad you aren't _Abigail_." The older Salvatore shrugged.

"Abby was _not_ as scary as you thought she was," Stefan defended. "She just didn't particularly like _you_ because you were a bit of a…"

"I think children I using the word 'player' these days," Rebecca quipped with a snarky smile.

"Womanizer," Stefan added.

"Ooo, it's probably a _very_ good thing she's not a vampire," Rebecca commented with a smirk, "because she would have surely killed you for your undead endeavors." How she knew about those, Stefan was unsure.

"Okay, _pause_ this nostalgia," Damon announced, glaring at the dead body in the room. "We need to get rid of this body."

"We?" Rebecca echoed. "I helped you drag that here."

"No, no, no," Stefan agreed with Rebecca. " _You_ need to get rid of this body."

As Damon rolled his eyes, Stefan gave Rebecca an amused smile. She winked at him as she always had the many times she had defended the younger Salvatore from his older brother's tendency to be a bully.

" _Ugh_."

* * *

 **Mystic Falls 1862**

 _The six-year span between the Salvatore brothers began taking its toll when Ezekiel turned twenty years old last year. Damon spent more of his free time with the eldest Sutton boy than he spent with his own flesh and blood. When Stefan had initially mentioned it, the dark-haired Salvatore boy had shrugged the accusation away. Ezekiel was only a year younger than him, Damon had sighed; Stefan just had to understand that they had more in common, he had reasoned._

 _Over time, Stefan stopped minding his brother's absence. He spent more time with the younger Suttons, Rebecca, Samuel, and Charlotte, and he had made friends with some of the other teenagers in the town. He would meet Rebecca some nights for midnight swims, if he could bring himself to leave his bed. He would play catch with Samuel, sometimes joining a group of boys from school. He would take secret walks through the town with Charlotte if he could lure her away from her friends. More often than not, however, Stefan would sit under a tree and write or he would stroll through the town or countryside, absorbed in his own thoughts._

 _Stefan went to the Sutton house a few hours before sundown, requesting Samuel's presence. Abigail had answered the door, her belly round with her second child. Since Samuel was spending time with his father for the afternoon, Charlotte had etiquette lessons, and Rebecca had gone into town with a group of her friends, Stefan took the remainder of the day to walk into town. Standing tall with strong posture, Stefan ambled into town with his hands tucked into his trouser pockets. He smiled cordially at the women and inclined his head with respect to the men._

 _After stopping a few times to chat with several people, Stefan finally made it to the town. The usual bustle began to thin; people seemed to be trudging through the mud as they finished their business. Stefan went straight to the bakery, bought a sweet bun with raisins, and continued his journey through the town._

 _The young Salvatore had taken up the hobby of discovering the secret passageways of Mystic Falls. He had overheard some things from his father, things of danger and mystery, but he was more interested in the safety precautions the town had taken, such as underground tunnels and the secluded alleys throughout the town._

 _Stefan wandered through the narrow space between two buildings as he bit into the sweet bread, the treat to himself. As he neared the corner, he heard heavy breathing and quiet moans; his ears burned as he realized what that meant. Cautiously, he peered down the alley behind one of the buildings._

" _Rebecca?"_

 _The young woman had Clint Morgan, one of Damon and Ezekiel's friends, by the open collar. One of his hands was tangled in her loose blonde hair, the other tugged at her corset. Her mouth was greedy against his as she pulled him impossibly close to her body. Rebecca pulled away at the sound of her name; her round eyes fell on Stefan as she tried to catch her breath._

" _Stefan?" Her brows knit together as she tried to put as much space between her and Clint. The tapered passage didn't provide much room for her sudden modesty. "What are you doing here, Stef?"_

" _Well, I just… I heard…"_

" _Yeah, we know what you heard, you peeper!" Clint grumbled, tucking his shirt back into his trousers and pulling his suspenders back onto his shoulders. Rebecca swung a heavy hand to his chest with a thud._

" _Watch your mouth, Morgan," she seethed. "Get the hell out of here, you prick."_

" _Ratbag," Clint grumbled as he pushed past her. "Move, fool," he hissed to Stefan. Without hesitation, Stefan grabbed Clint by the shirt and shoved him toward the opening of the alley._

" _Don't you dare talk to her like that ever again," Stefan warned. Clint scoffed, eyeing Stefan's squared jaw before walking into the light of the town. He probably decided picking a fight with Damon Salvatore's younger brother wasn't the wisest idea. The blond young man turned to his older friend, trying to help her redo her corset. He didn't know much about corsets, considering there were only men in his household, but he knew how to tie his own laces. "Becca, why were you with that_ imbecile?" _he demanded._

" _Don't be naïve Stefan," Rebecca murmured. He watched her. Her cheeks still rosy and her chest still heaved. She avoided his gaze. She managed to wrap her hair into its usual bun and tighten her corset on her own. "Let's go," she commanded._

 _Stefan took her by the hand gingerly, leading her through the constricted alley, and warily stepped into the open town center. No one seemed to notice the two emerging from the darkness. Stefan offered his arm politely, and Rebecca looped hers through his easily; his height finally matched hers, so they walked shoulder by shoulder. Her home was in the opposite direction of his house, but he would rather take the punishment for returning after sundown than allow Rebecca to walk alone._

" _You deserve a better man than Clint Morgan," Stefan finally said as they wandered through less occupied streets. Rebecca's laugh morphed into an unladylike snort._

" _I'm not planning on marrying that dog," Rebecca scoffed. "Besides, all men are Clint Morgan, dear. You all want that one thing and would do anything to get it."_

" _I don't want that," Stefan frowned immediately._

" _Oh, don't you?" Rebecca challenged, pulling herself away from him. Her daring eyes and crossed arms made his face red hot._

" _I mean, I_ do _," he admitted lowly, "but it doesn't cloud my judgment. A lady is a flower, needing the proper kind of attention."_

" _How sweet," Rebecca crooned sarcastically. "The only thing is, darling, you have yet to get a taste of what everyone is after."_

" _Perhaps you're right," Stefan shrugged. His hands found their way back into his pockets again. "But, because of that, I can give you an unbiased response. Not every man would treat a lady so flippantly."_

" _What if that is how I want to be treated…?" Rebecca muttered. Stefan glanced over at his friend in the orange glow of the setting sun. Her eyes were lowered and her bottom lip trembled._

" _I know, for a fact, that Rebecca Sutton would never settle for any man who does not treat her like a queen," he declared. Rebecca's eyes snapped up to meet his; his statement clearly surprised her. He smiled, thumbing away the moisture that threatened to stream down her face._

* * *

"All right," Damon huffed as he had one of Oscar's arms slung around his neck. Stefan had the other arm, ready to help his brother haul the body out of the small apartment. Desiccated vampires were mysteriously heavier to vampires than any other thing. Damon dismissed it as a magic thing. Rebecca sat on the sofa, watching with mischievous eyes, and munched on her French fries.

"Want a fry?" Rebecca offered with a coy grin. Her honey eyes glittered at Damon's scowl. He rolled his eyes at her immature attempts to get under his skin.

"Maybe later," he replied sarcastically.

"Oh, probably won't be any later," she replied. She shrugged, delivering another mischievous look. "Oh well."

"You _could_ help, you know," Damon grumbled through gritted teeth as the weight of Oscar's body took its toll.

"Me? I am a _lady_ ," Rebecca retorted, her voice reverting to its original accent. Stefan laughed, glancing between the two. Damon knew Stefan was only enjoying the display because it was like their human days. Damon couldn't help but to be enjoying it too.

Before he could insinuate there was nothing lady-like about her, there was a knock on the door. It couldn't have been anyone they knew; Alaric had a key, Bonnie knew where the spare key was, and Caroline would have at least called ahead of time.

"Damon? I know you're in there!" a British female voice sang through the door.

The three vampires froze, unsure where to stash Oscar's body or whether Rebecca should make her presence known. Through quick gestures and facial expressions, Stefan and Rebecca took the body while Damon answered the rapid, frustrated knocking.

"Damon, open the bloody—"

"Hello," Damon answered with a tight smile. The blonde Heretic, Mary Louise, stormed in first; her partner, the brunette Nora, brushed past him with a frown. There was no trace of Oscar or Rebecca in the apartment; Stefan leaned against the arm of the sofa with his arms folded casually.

"University housing," Mary Louise commented, surveying the small living space with distaste. "How _lovely_."

"How sad," Nora sighed patronizingly. She also examined the main room.

"Not as sad as being exiled here by your own mother," Mary Louise corrected with a malicious twist. Nora's expression showed her agreement. Damon was getting more and more irritated by their tag-team insults. "Lily must have had the wrong address for the hostage exchange." With the same edged tone, she inquired, "Where's Oscar?"

"Oh, you _just_ missed him." Damon's response was just as superficial as their banter. If Lily had been at the swap, she would have known right away he was hiding something by how his hands clasped behind his back and by how he rocked back and forth on his heels. It had always given away his mischief as a child.

"You _reek_ of blood," Nora accused, taking a step toward him with a sniff.

"Well, I've been…" Damon sighed as if he was admitting something regrettable. "I've been binging."

"And I've been judging," Stefan added quickly.

"Yeah…" Damon chuckled lowly. He was thankful Stefan had been there though he'd never admit it aloud. The Heretic shared a suspicious glance.

Nora picked up an antique vase, inspecting it for a brief moment. Stefan reasoned, "Not going to find him in there." Nora, however, seemed to have another plan. She dropped the vase while keeping eye contact with the dark-haired Salvatore.

Damon forced a groan, clenching his jaw. Alaric was going to kill him. "Look, I get it, okay—you got me." Nora continued to pick up breakable items and letting him smash against the wooden floors; Stefan managed to save a picture frame. Damon rushed to lie, "Oscar turned the tables, and he knocked me out and took off." Without having to act, Damon sighed dejectedly. "I lost my one and only bargaining chip."

"Then why isn't Oscar answering his phone?" Mary Louise demanded, peering at Damon through slanted eyes. Nora wandered around the small apartment, checking each room casually.

"Well, I mean, maybe the guys doesn't _want_ to be found," Damon tried. Both Salvatores shared a quick glance as Nora neared the bathroom.

When Nora pushed the bathroom door, everyone heard a shriek and then, a drawled whine.

"What the _hell_!"

Nora backed away from the door with wide eyes as Rebecca marched into the living room with damp hair and a short towel wrapped around her body. Nora eyed the blonde curiously; Damon bit his cheek to hide his amusement.

"Who the hell is _this_?" Mary Louise demanded as she noticed the cat-like gaze Nora had on Rebecca's nearly naked body.

"Damon, I get that you sleep around, but can you, at least, pick up girls that are courteous enough to _knock_?" Rebecca nearly shouted. Nora scoffed.

"Darling, Damon Salvatore isn't exactly my _type_ ," Nora purred, her eyes wandered over Rebecca's body. The blonde shifted uncomfortably.

"This is Sue Beckett."

"She lives here," Stefan added to his brother's lie. "We compelled her to stay here."

"Why don't I believe you?" Nora muttered. She sniffed at Rebecca for a moment, but Damon could only smell her sweet, peppermint perfume. Nora gripped Rebecca's arm, and the blonde cried out as if Nora was actually hurting her. Capturing her eyes, Nora thought she was compelling Rebecca as she said, "Take off your towel."

"Nora!" Mary Louise gasped, but Rebecca had to obey to keep up the ruse. With a blank expression, Rebecca tore the towel off, letting it thud onto the floor. Damon could see the great restraint she held to not give Nora a daring smirk.

"Well, this is pointless," Mary Louise fumed. It was obvious how flustered she was by her girlfriend's infatuation with Rebecca. "Come, Nora." The blonde Heretic stormed out of the apartment the same way she stormed in. Nora sipped the drink she had brought with her as she studied Rebecca's naked body one last time. She gave Damon a tight smile before dropping her half-empty drink onto the ground.

"I'll throw that away for you," Damon said snidely. When the two intruders were finally gone, Rebecca blurred out of the room, and Stefan clamped his eyes shut.

"I can never un-see that," Stefan groaned, pressing his palms onto his closed lids.

"It's not like she looks her age," Damon reasoned. He had seen bits and pieces of Rebecca's bare body over the span of their human lives, but he had to admit it was a little shocking to see her completely naked all at once.

"If you're done talking about me, a little help please?" Rebecca called from the bathroom. Rebecca and Stefan had taken the desiccated vampire, tied him securely with a bedsheet, and hung him from the window. The two vampires rushed into the bathroom and retrieved the dead Heretic.

"Just like old times," Stefan smiled at Rebecca as they tossed the body onto the sofa.

"Screw it, let's just get this guy to the furnace," Damon declared. Before his brother or best friend could disagree, they heard the door open. A beautiful young woman in a tight green dress entered; with a blank face, she extended a note to them.

"Wrong door, darling," Rebecca commented with a quirked brow.

Stefan cautiously took the paper from her grip. " 'A message from Miss Nora Hildegard,' " he read aloud. " 'Dictated but not read. For every hour that Oscar isn't returned, a Whitmore student will die. Starting now.' "

When he finished, the human girl stabbed herself in the neck with a pen without flinching. The three watched her sink to the ground, gurgling from the blood bubbling from her neck wound.

"Oh, no," Damon groaned.

* * *

 **Little Bamon, Baroline, Defan,** _ **and**_ **a flashback. Oh, and Stefan finally finds out Rebecca is alive!**

 **Enjoy! And don't forget to review!**

 **Merry Christmas! Be merry, be jolly, and be safe!**

 **xo,**

 **glass27doll**


	9. CHRISTMAS SPECIAL

**A/N: What's this? Another chapter? Actually, no… I know my storyline is in the middle of the Halloween episode, but I couldn't resist, I love Christmas!**

 **This is my Christmas present to you, a Christmas-themed flashback!**

 **Why? Well, 'cause**

 **1) it's Christmas, you deserve a present!**

 **2) you've favorited and followed and reviewed me and**

 **3) because I love you guys so much for all of the support and views!**

 **You guys are truly the best!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own any of the TVD characters/plotlines/dialogue. I only own the Suttons and their storylines.**

* * *

 **The Sniffles**

Mystic Falls, 1857

" _All right, my darlings, let's be on our best behavior this year." Lily's voice was nearly lost in the low howl of the wind. Stefan was already pasted onto her side, so Damon had to lean close. She glanced ahead, as Giuseppe marched against the wind. "Your father has already had one too many, and I don't think it'll end well for anyone if something like_ last _year happened again."_

 _Damon felt Stefan's shiny eyes drill into his stoic face. Every year the Suttons and Salvatore celebrate Christmas together; sometimes, they invited other families from the Council, but they generally just met the other families at the midnight Christmas service. The previous year had been marked by Stefan's mistake of standing a little too close to the Christmas tree with a candle. In efforts to extinguish the fire, Giuseppe and George had to use one of Florence's favorite tapestries, destroying it. Damon had taken the blame for it, as he usually did; Ezekiel and Rebecca tried to convince the Salvatore father they had provoked him to do it, but the man wouldn't have it. Giuseppe allowed George to take a belt to Damon's back, and Damon had to gather firewood for the Suttons for two weeks._

" _Yes, Mother, of course." Damon smiled warmly to his mother. Her blue eyes were sunken into her face, and Damon could see her exhaustion from them. Recently she had become increasingly weaker, barely able to finish her supper some night and difficult to wake on some mornings. Damon had been trying to shoulder the burden of Stefan's wellbeing for her, considering his father was disinterested, intoxicated, or just absent._

" _I am very sorry for that, Mama," Stefan whispered. He only used that name when they were alone with Lily; their father had scolded him for being so informal and childish. Lily smiled; she cupped the ten-year-old boy's face and kissed his forehead._

" _Lillian!"_

 _The woman startled at Giuseppe's harsh call; Damon's jaw clenched as he glared over her shoulder, at his father's frowning face. "Coming dear!" she called as she gathered her dress and rushed to her tyrant husband. She climbed the Sutton porch steps carefully; though the porch only had six steps, she was winded. She sighed deeply and folded her hands onto her lap as Giuseppe knocked._

" _Do you smell that?" Damon glanced down at Stefan's dreamy smile. The older Salvatore knew this was one of Stefan's favorite holidays, after his birthday, of course. "It's probably Abby and Julie baking cookies!"_

 _The older girls baked cookies and cakes every year, but Damon just grinned. "Hopefully, the cookies aren't like rocks this year," the older Salvatore teased with a wink. Stefan covered his laughing mouth, and Damon threw a casual arm around his little brother's shoulders. Damon tried his hardest to keep his brother safe and happy._

" _Merry Christmas Eve!" Florence Sutton greeted as she answered the door with a bright smile._

 _The woman curtsied for Giuseppe, stepping aside with a small frown as he ignored her and entered the house. She, then, trapped Lily in a strong embrace; Damon saw her closed eyes and warm smile as she melded into her best friend's hug. She ushered Lily in, already dissolved in youthful chatter; Damon and Stefan followed, both hanging their coats on the rack by the door. They would be leaving soon, for the Christmas Eve church service, but they always had cookies and festive drinks beforehand._

 _The main room was full of giggles and conversation, all from the Suttons. George and Giuseppe greeted each other with slurred, booming voices, laughing heartily as George poured his friend a drink. Samuel was explaining something with fervor to his older sister, Julia, all while cookie crumbs covered his mouth and chin. Ezekiel sat on the floor, pretending to sip tea from the tea set Charlotte received last year, as Charlotte helped her doll drink its tea. Abigail flitted around the room, refilling the adults' eggnog and the children's hot chocolate._

" _Damon!" Ezekiel beamed at his best friend as the young man finished his polite greetings to Florence, George, and Abigail. The sixteen-year-old raised his tiny teacup to Damon as he sat on the ground next to one of Charlotte's dolls. "You're just in time for Lottie's peppermint tea."_

" _How fancy," Damon commented with an impressed expression. He winked at Charlotte, and a proud grin overtook her face._

" _Well, it_ is _Christmas,_ Damon _," she drawled as she already began pouring the pretend tea from her white porcelain teapot._

 _Damon chuckled, taking the teacup and saucer from the six-year-old gingerly. He even acted as if the cup burnt his fingertips. He brought the white teacup with pink flowers to his lips and pretended to take a long sip. "Wow, Lottie, this is rather good. I didn't know you were an expert at making tea."_

" _Well, if you had ever come to my tea parties, you would know!"_

 _Ezekiel and Damon shared a laugh at the little girl's smug smile. Samuel interrupted when he ran up to Charlotte, tugged one of her long, golden braids, before running away again. It caused the two older boys to laugh even harder as Charlotte shot up to chase her brother. Damon set down the fragile teacup and saucer and glanced around the room. Someone was missing._

" _Where's Beck?" he inquired casually. Ezekiel opened his mouth to answer, but a female voice behind them answered._

" _She's sick." Both young men turned to see Julia holding a plate of fresh cookies. "Hi Damon," she murmured shyly. The Salvatore delivered his winning smile, knowing its effects on women. "Care for some cookies?"_

" _I'd love to have some; thanks, Jules." Damon took two cookies and rolled his eyes at Ezekiel's bouncing eyebrows. Julia gave a sweet smile to Damon as he tasted a cookie and Ezekiel stole four. "Delicious," Damon commented._

 _As Julia's radiant smile lingered on her face when she left reluctantly, Ezekiel said, with a mouthful of cookie, "It's only a matter of time before you're officially part of the family."_

" _Do you know something I don't?" Damon raised a brow at his friend. Ezekiel shrugged._

" _I know my father and your father are made from the same thread, and your mother and my mother are practically schoolgirls with one another," Ezekiel reasoned. "We're all close enough to be family. It's either you marry Julie or Becky, or we wait for Stef and Lottie."_

" _You know that Beck and I don't—"_

" _Hey, Damon," Abigail beckoned from the kitchen. He frowned at Ezekiel, who shrugged, and Damon headed into the kitchen cautiously. Abigail was fixing a small tray with a bowl of steaming soup and a spoon. "I was going to bring this up to Becky," she explained with a low, pressured voice, "but I know she would appreciate it more if…"_

 _Damon's ears burned at Abigail's wicked smile. She never really acted her age around the other children, but this impish grin always bubbled up when she alluded to what she had once seen. One night, when Damon and Rebecca had returned from a midnight walk, Abigail must have realized Rebecca was gone and waited for them on the back porch. The only reason they knew she had been spying was her gasp when they kissed good night._

" _Abby, Rebecca and I aren't really like that. We just—"_

 _She cut him off by raising a silencing hand. "Whatever is going on between you two, it doesn't matter. You, Zeke, and Becky have been best friends since you were toddlers. She'd be happy to see you." She handed him the tray. "I'll send Stefan up with a cup of tea when you return, so he can say Merry Christmas too."_

 _Damon pursed his lips and nodded. He balanced the tray as he crossed the main room to the stairs. As someone started to question him, Abigail lied easily to distract him or her. Damon finally made it up the stairs and walked to her room knowingly. He had spent the past few months casting stones at her window; he knew where her room was._

 _Rebecca's back was to the door, but he could tell her body was shivering under several blankets. The window was shut, so the cold was probably from her ailment. His footsteps caused the floorboard to creak under his weight; Rebecca peered over her shoulder to see her visitor. Her eyes were round as she immediately sat up and pulled a blanket over her chest._

" _What are you doing up here?" she hissed. Her bright eyes darted between his familiar silhouette and the ajar door. The only light in the room was from the moon and stars. Damon smiled knowingly, setting the tray on her lap carefully, and sat at the edge of her bed. "Damon, you cannot—"_

" _Abigail sent me up here," he explained quietly. He watched the tensions in her shoulders loosen as the statement sunk in. "Claimed you'd appreciate my presence." He winked at her, and she rolled her eyes with a scoff. He couldn't tell if her flushed skin was due to her fever or her embarrassment._

" _My sister likes to believe she can play Cupid, that meddler." She covered her face with her hands and sighed. "I am so upset that I am sick for Christmas."_

" _Do you think you'll feel well enough to go to the midnight service?"_

" _Maybe after this soup," she muttered with a shrug. After a moment, a soft smile slinked across her face as she eyed him. "Thank you for coming to visit me."_

" _Well, I know you think I put the stars in the sky, so how could I not?" Rebecca abruptly smacked his arm, causing him to laugh. "Don't deny it!"_

" _You are daft!" Rebecca retorted through her own laughter. She tucked some hair behind her ear. "Its Margarine going to be at the service?" she teased as she began to eat her soup. It was Damon's turn to roll his eyes._

" _Yes,_ Margaret _will most likely be there," he corrected her petty joke. He raised a brow. "Unless you spread your sickness to her, considering how much time you two are together." Damon knew Rebecca tried to befriend his girlfriends, to give him an excuse to be seen publically with them._

" _Maggie is a fun girl!" Rebecca defended though she had an evil smile on her lips. "What did you get her for Christmas?"_

 _Damon frowned. Despite being friends with his flames, she never initiated conversations about them. In fact, she pretended like they didn't exist until it was time to put on a fake smile around them._

" _Nothing." He shrugged. "In two days' time, she'll mean nothing to me."_

" _Now, who_ ever _said you don't know how to think ahead?" Rebecca teased, referring to a jab he told her Giuseppe had made. With another coy smile, she arched a brow. "What did you get_ me _?"_

" _Ah." Damon chuckled a little and shook his head as he reached into his pocket. He pulled a flat disk of blue ribbon. "I know you lost the ribbon I had given you, so…"_

" _How sweet," she crooned sarcastically, but she bit back a smile. "Thank you. I've been sick all week, so I couldn't—"_

" _Damon!" Both teens jumped at the sound of Abigail's voice. "It's time to go!" the eldest Sutton called from the foot of the stairs. Rebecca sighed, and Damon cupped her face._

" _Get over these sniffles," Damon muttered, "that would be a present to me."_

" _I can certainly try." She gave him a weak smile. When he leaned close to her, she breathed, "Don't kiss me- you'll get sick."_

" _Merry Christmas, Beck." Damon ignored her dissuasion and pressed a kiss to her already feverish mouth._

* * *

 **Have yourself a merry little Christmas!**

 **Don't forget to send me some reviews/critiques/suggestions. I** _ **love**_ **reading them!**

 **Be merry, be jolly, and be safe!**

 **xo,**

 **glass27doll**


	10. ANOTHER CHRISTMAS SPECIAL

**A/N: Whoa, another Christmas bonus flashback? Yes! Because you guys are great, and we all know how much we need fluff.**

 **Thanks for all the favorites and followers, and the few reviews! You guys are truly the best! Keep 'em coming!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own any of the TVD characters/plotlines/dialogue. I only own the Suttons and their storylines.**

* * *

 **Peppermint**

Mystic Falls, 1859

" _Oh… hi, Damon."_

 _The nineteen year old young man turned back to the door after knocking for the second time. His hands were in his pocket as he surveyed the area. Julia's wide green eyes greeted him, and her pink lips parted a little as his pale gaze fell on her. She wore a blanket like a shawl, wrapping her shoulders and covering the majority of her body. He gave her a charming smile, knowing it still affected the newly wed._

" _Hi, again, Jules." He ran his fingers through his hair, as the wind had just disrupted it. "Has Ezekiel returned from town?"_

" _Since I sent the kids with you and Stefan?" Another chilling breeze interrupted her; she squealed at its bite. Damon reached forward to tuck a loose strand of blonde hair behind her ear. He felt her shaking, but he was unsure if the weather was its sole cause. "Um, no, he hasn't… Rebecca, however, is—"_

" _Good God, Julia—what is heaven's name is James doing naked in your bed?" Damon heard the booming demand accompanied by stomping boots. "I thought you said you were sick last night! Who's at the door?"_

 _Damon grinned widely at the unruly outburst. Julia had stayed home, tucked away, during the Christmas service; James, her husband, had vowed to help her feel better. Damon's impish grin caused all the proof he needed as the warm color overtook Julia's face. James helped made her feel better, all right. Rebecca popped her head through the open door. An excited smile erupted on her face when she saw her best friend._

" _Look at my Christmas present!" she announced, hopping out of the house proudly. Damon eyed her critically, searching for anything out of the ordinary. He frowned._

" _Ezekiel's old clothes?"_

 _Rebecca's hair, pulled back into a ponytail, bobbed as she nodded. "They said, since I insist on wearing them anyways, I should have my own set of shirts and trousers. They even gave me one of his old coats."_

" _Congratulations." Damon tilted his head down politely. "Grab your skates and let's get going. They are already cutting into the new ice." He was disappointed to have missed the opportunity._

" _Sure." Rebecca disappeared for a moment and returned with a grip on her skates' laces. "Good day to you, Sister," Rebecca said theatrically to her older sister. "Make sure Jimmy doesn't stay much longer. Mom and George will be home soon."_

" _He's your father, Becky." Julia's voice was uncharacteristically firm as she spoke lowly. The older girl cast a cautious glance in Damon's direction, but he pretended he wasn't listening. Rebecca patted her sister's pink cheek scornfully._

" _Don't_ ruin _Christmas, Julie."_

 _Without hesitation, Rebecca stormed out of the house, passed her friend, and clomped down the steps before Damon could offer Julia a goodbye and a good luck. He jogged after the young woman, his booted crunching against the thick snow. It had been a long time since they had a heavy snowfall. Once he caught up with her, he gripped her elbow to steer her in the direction of the lake._

" _I know you're blonde and everything, but last time I checked, your memory isn't this poor," Damon jabbed with a mischievous smile. Rebecca rolled her eyes, pulling her arm out of his grasp._

" _I'm meeting someone in town today," she explained offhandedly. She shrugged when Damon gave her a quizzical look. He knew his best friend well—"someone" always translated to one of his friends that doubled as one of her lovers. Traitors, he would call them to Ezekiel._

" _And who are you gracing with your presence on this Christmas morn?" He offered his crooked arm, and Rebecca looped hers through, clinging to him tightly. Her jacket, Ezekiel's hand-me-down, was slightly tattered. Damon knew her closeness was an attempt to stay warm, but the peppermint oil she used as perfume prickled his already cold nose._

" _Let me worry about the 'who'," Rebecca retorted as they strolled along the road into town, "and you can just do your job and be my look-out."_

" _Is that where Ezekiel has disappeared to? Into town, to meet with…?"_

" _Cynthia. He's meeting with Cynthia today." Rebecca's answered sounded judgmental, like Damon should know his own best friend's current flame. Damon didn't try to keep up._

" _I know Cynthia."_

" _I'm sure you do," Rebecca replied snidely. Damon probably knew Cynthia just as well as Ezekiel did. "Zeke knows how much it means to a woman to be held around this time of year."_

 _The seventeen-year-old gave Damon a teasing glance. Damon had broken off his affair with Therese two days before Christmas, with both Rebecca and Ezekiel as his look-outs, and he ignored Therese's attempts to win him back at the midnight Christmas service. Rebecca laughed the entire night._

" _Oh, is_ that _why you're meeting_ someone _today?" Damon shot back._

" _And here I thought you knew me better than_ that _." Rebecca tossed her ponytail over her shoulder as she jutted out her chin. "The poor thing_ begged _to see me. At the very least, I told him I would try."_

" _How generous of you."_

" _You sound jealous, Salvatore."_

" _Now, why would I be? I'm confident you are_ mine _." Rebecca stopped abruptly. She glared at the handsome, dark-haired young man with narrowed eyes and a heavy frown. He, on the other hand, leered arrogantly. "After all, you_ always _run back to me."_

" _There is no_ running _," she countered, and with her own smug attitude, she added, "And_ you _always run back to_ me. _"_

" _Beck, it is_ clear _as day how much you_ love _me." At this point, Damon's arrogance had morphed into a roguish banter. Rebecca crossed her arms and raised a brow. Damon may have crossed a line._

" _We both know how trifling love is… unless you've changed your mind and wanted to confess something to me?" Her eyes flashed with a challenge. "_ Lady _Salvatore?" she prompted sarcastically._

" _Fine,_ Mister _Beck." Damon rolled his eyes dramatically. A grin broke on Rebecca's face, making Damon's chest swell with pride. "I take it back. You are not_ mine _. You will always be your own."_

" _Good boy," she simpered, latching onto his arm again. Her warmth, paired with her icy perfume, was familiar and soothing. "Hopefully, this won't take too long_ and _we find Ezekiel along the way."_

" _Perhaps—"_

" _Rebecca?"_

 _Both teens, who had been watching their syncopated footsteps, looked up to see Michael Garner jogging toward them. The robust blond young man eyed the two with a perplexed smile. Rebecca released Damon, and he watched her lips curl into a smitten smile. His schoolmate glanced at Damon cautiously, but Damon's blank expression twisted into a simple smile._

" _Hey, Michael. Merry Christmas," Damon greeted easily._

" _Merry Christmas, Damon…" Michael's eyes darted over to Rebecca before stammering, "I didn't know you were going to—"_

" _Michael, darling, I have plans with my family. Let's not waste any time." Rebecca hugged his arm and kissed his cheek chastely. Michael's already pink face turned a deep red. He avoided Damon's laughing face._

" _I'll look for Ezekiel," Damon informed Rebecca. She nodded before leading a still confused Michael into an alley._

* * *

" _Michael Garner…? Really?"_

 _It must have been about the seventh time Damon had repeated those words in the same succession. Each time, the amount of incredulity increased. He and Ezekiel skated alongside each other as Rebecca circled both Samuel and Stefan aiding a wobbly Charlotte. Ezekiel laughed, clapping a hand down on Damon's tense shoulder._

" _You sound a little concerned there, Brother," Ezekiel teased, studying Damon's downcast face._

" _Michael is_ our _friend, Zeke," Damon said as if it was a suitable reply. He tucked his hands into his pockets and avoided his friend's eyes._

 _Instead, he glanced over to Rebecca. She had freed her long tresses from its blue ribbon since she emerged from behind a building with her boyfriend. She cheered as Charlotte finally managed to skate a few feet without support. Like she could feel his attention, Rebecca looked at her brother and best friend. She planted her fists onto her hips and mocked Damon's deep, contemplative expression. He rolled his eyes, and she giggled. She suddenly captured Charlotte's hand and skated with her little sister carefully._

" _And he'll be our friend when Rebecca is finished with him." Ezekiel shrugged. "You cannot hold it against her. You and I have spent quite some time with several of Rebecca's friends."_

" _Well, we both know Rebecca doesn't really have any female friends," Damon pointed out, disguising it as a joke. Ezekiel smirked. "But I understand what you're saying. I don't know why… it just_ feels _strange."_

" _Perhaps it's because you know your time is growing short."_

" _What do you mean?"_

" _Well, you lost your chance with Julie," Ezekiel reasoned, "so Becky is next in line."_

" _Ezekiel, I can have any—"_

" _Are you two done gossiping about me? You are worse than schoolgirls!" Rebecca slid to a stop in front of her brother and her best friend with a knowing look painted onto her rosy face. Damon pursed his lips, and Ezekiel just chuckled. "I want to race, but Stefan won't leave Charlotte's side, and Samuel isn't a strong skater."_

" _You two can race," Ezekiel suggested, nudging Damon forward. "I'm going to take over Charlotte's little skating lesson. She's clearly getting nowhere with the guidance of those two."_

" _Good luck," Rebecca scoffed. As her brother glided away, she turned to Damon with a wicked expression. "Are you ready to lose, Salvatore? Or are you scared you'll cry?"_

" _In your dreams, Beck," Damon parried. "The end is the edge of the lake. I'll count. One, two—"_

 _Knowing Damon would cheat, Rebecca matched his effort to get ahead. Both teens jetted forward before the final count, their skates sounding like swords slicing against each other. Their sudden movement caught the attention of the rest of the group; Damon barely registered their cheers. Rebecca let out a cackle as she took long strides to pass Damon; Charlotte cheered for her older sister, calling out that girls were superior to boys. Damon faked a lunge in Rebecca's direction. With a gasp, she lurched out of his path. This gave Damon the opportunity to gain the upper hand, albeit through dishonest means._

 _Damon glanced back at Rebecca with an impish grin as he neared the edge of the lake. Everything about Rebecca was bright—her wide hazel eyes, her laughing mouth, her flowing hair._

" _Damon, you're—"_

 _Damon felt his skate hit something hard, and he flew backward with a yelp. The wind knocked out of him as his back fell against the hard snowy banks. Rebecca was next to let out a shriek. He sat up to see what happened, but she crashed into him with a groan. Rebecca's collarbone knocked into Damon's chin, and he let out a protest._

 _Her perfume bit into his senses. Up close, he could smell the sweetness of the peppermint against her warm skin. He couldn't resist; he kissed his friend's neck intimately._

' _Damon…" she drawled quietly. "We're making a scene."_

" _It's not like they don't know." Damon's teeth grazed her skin, making her shiver. "You just smell so good. Like, peppermint."_

" _Speaking of which…" Rebecca rolled off him, to his displeasure, and reached into her coat pocket. She sat up and placed a cloth pouch onto his stomach. He matched her motions and opened the decorative knot. "I made you peppermint candies. Merry Christmas."_

 _Damon glanced over at the others as he put a candy in his mouth. Everyone watched curiously, so he waved, an indication that the two were okay, and nudged Rebecca to do the same. Ezekiel was the last to look away; his expression was like a stone, blank and hard. Damon's heart raced. He knew his best friend's jokes about marrying his sister were superficial; if the eldest Sutton boy knew Damon's endeavors with his closest sister, it could sever their friendship._

 _Pulling her back on top of him, knowing they were hidden in the snow, Damon kissed Rebecca sweetly. She giggled, feeling the tingling, minty feeling on her lips from his._

" _Merry Christmas, Beck."_

* * *

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 **Be merry, be jolly, and be safe!**

 **xo,**

 **glass27doll**


	11. Worst Nightmare

**A/N: HAPPY NEW YEAR'S! Thanks for the favorites and follows everyone!**

 **Send me some reviews/critiques/suggestions, I** ** _love_** **reading them!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own any of the TVD characters/plotlines/dialogue. I only own the Suttons and their storylines.**

* * *

 **Chapter 9**

Worst Nightmare

"As much as I love catching up over coffee," Rebecca murmured against the lip of her disposable cup, "I could sure go for something a little more… _potent_." She gave Stefan a pointed look with bouncing eyebrows.

Stefan had taken Rebecca to the on-campus café while Damon sorted out a way to get Oscar back. The older Salvatore had muttered something about keeping Rebecca busy and something about the Phoenix Stone. Stefan didn't really understand the latter, but he led Rebecca to the corner loveseat sofa of the café and talked in hushed tones to avoid human eavesdroppers. From what Stefan could gather from Damon's behavior, his older brother wasn't too trusting of Rebecca coming back into their lives so suddenly, but Stefan had yet to see anything suspicious from his friend from a former life.

How Rebecca managed to elicit every gritty detail about the Salvatores' two and a half centuries in only a few hours was beyond Stefan. He started with the brothers' first love triangle with Katherine, and how Damon was so enraptured by her, he had gone through many hoops to get her back. He briefly explained the Original vampire family, their discovery of werewolves, and the hybrid dilemma. He even talked about Silas, Qetsiyah, Amara, and the Other Side, which lead to the Travelers and their spell on Mystic Falls. He told her about Damon and Bonnie dying, going to the Other Side, and he even went as far as to explain Kai and his hand in the current events.

Through his entire story, what had her at the edge of her seat, to Stefan's surprise, was the love triangle Damon had created when Elena and Stefan had initially been together.

"Well, if you're looking for the hard liquor, you've picked the wrong Salvatore for company," Stefan replied easily. He laughed at Rebecca's deadpan look; he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and hugged her close to his side. "I, personally, don't partake in the 'potent' stuff, but I know happen to know someone who'd have some handy."

"The same someone we're waiting for in this empty hallway?" Rebecca inquired, eyeing the untouched coffee cup in Stefan's hand. "The same someone you bought the coffee for?" Stefan chuckled, lowering his eyes to avoid Rebecca's perceptive glance.

"Am I really that _obvious_?"

"Lottie used to have an apron full of sweets whenever she'd return from town," Rebecca mused, giving her friend a little smile. "She had finally confessed to me she had been meeting with you secretly and that the sweets were from you." For a moment, Stefan thought he could hear the pain in her voice as she brought up the memory of her little sister. Just as it had appeared, it disappeared when she added, "You boys think you've changed over the decades, but you're still both my best friends."

"Good to know," Stefan smiled, giving her shoulders one last squeeze before releasing her. He leaned against the post of an archway. The two watched only a few people mill through the hall before Stefan broke the silence. "You know, Becca, I miss Lottie a lot sometimes," he finally muttered. Rebecca wrapped her arms around herself with a frown. "Sometimes, it's overwhelming. Though I'd never wish this life on anyone, I'd admit it would have been nice to have her here… you know?"

"I _do_ know." Rebecca's voice was uncharacteristically weak. Stefan glanced at his friend's downcast eyes and mentally bashed himself for being so offhanded with his words. Of course, Rebecca knew what it was like to want her own, little sister still alive. "But she had a full life, and that's really all that matters. She was happy, with a husband and children."

"Who did she end up marrying?" Stefan tucked his free hand into his pocket casually, hoping his inquiry was delivered the same way. Rebecca gave him another knowing glance.

"His name was Peter Dixon," Rebecca replied, petting his hair affectionately. She had done the same, in the past, whenever she soothed him. "He was from Georgia, visiting his extended family in Virginia… and he was so captivated by Charlotte that he spoke to George a month after seeing her."

She paused, eyeing his blank expression. Stefan's jaw clenched, but he realized he had no right to be upset. If he had really wanted Charlotte Sutton to be his wife, he would have spoken to her father right away—not to dive into a romance with Valerie or to lust after Katherine.

"Peter was a nice man, treated Lottie well, as far as I was concerned." Rebecca laughed at a memory and explained, "Ezekiel and I tag-team interrogated the poor boy before they got married. Pretty sure he was having second doubts… It would have been funny to see Damon included in that scene."

"Charlotte wouldn't have married this Peter Dixon if I were still—"

"Hey, stop that." Rebecca's stern tone was coupled with a furrowed brow. Her expression softened into a sad smile as she put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't do that to yourself, Stef. Listen, I know you've probably abandoned the notion of 'everything happening for a reason', but I genuinely believe you must have turned for a purpose." She gripped his shoulder, and he could see the hope shining in her light eyes. "Your human life ended, even if it was just to let Lottie live a simple life with a simple farmer."

"He was a farmer?" Stefan scoffed dramatically. Rebecca's hand dropped as she rolled her eyes. His superior attitude dissipated as he quietly asked, "How many children did she have?"

"Three," Rebecca reported. "Josephine, Marigold, and..." Rebecca smiled a little, lowering her eyes. "She named her only son Stephen…"

"Really?"

"Darling, she missed you just as much as you are missing her now," Rebecca muttered, taking his hand for a moment. "You've just had time to cultivate the feeling."

As he was about to reply, he heard doors in every hall begin to open, and people surging into the main hall. He faintly heard the sound of Caroline reciting her agenda to herself in a stressed whisper. He could have laughed if the conversation hadn't previously been on Charlotte.

"Caroline is coming," was all he could say, looking down at the untouched coffee cup.

Rebecca nodded, stepping aside just as Caroline sauntered through the hall with purpose. Stefan watched her curiously, as she continued to mutter her plans to herself, adjusting the strap of her bag on her shoulder. Her blonde curls bounced on her shoulders. Her eyebrows lowered with determination. She stopped at the sight of Stefan, confused, but her cheerful smile suddenly overwhelmed her sweet face.

If there was one purpose for him turning, it was for Caroline Forbes.

* * *

Caroline had been right, as usual. There was an enormous amount of work she had missed when she'd been rudely kidnapped. Her daily planner was jammed with all of the assignments; her hasty notes littered the assignment papers. She spent the end of every class compelling her way into make-up exams and extensions. She could have easily compelled her professors to give her exceptional grades, but she wanted to do things right. It wasn't like she couldn't do it. Though she could feel the stress beginning to form like a whirlwind of smoke in her chest, she knew it would just fuel her perfectionism.

Someone stepped out of her blazing trail, just as she entered the main hall, and she glanced up from her own buzzing thoughts to see Stefan, leaning against the wall casually with a cup of coffee perched on his fingertips. It was silly, but it was as if he chose the spot because the sunlight streamed through the overhead window. Caroline's heart fluttered at the sight of his easygoing smile, and an elastic smile covered her face. Stefan was handsome, sweet, funny… and she still did not know how she managed to enchant him.

"Hi," he smiled, pushing himself away from the archway.

"Hi," she replied with uncertainty. She wouldn't complain, but it was unusual for him to show up at Whitmore. Before she could ask why he was waiting for her, he offered the cardboard cup with a genuine smile.

"I bought you coffee," he said as if it explained everything.

"And it keeps getting better," she murmured impishly as she reached for the cup. Her fingers brushed against his; Stefan gritted his teeth as his skin sizzled, and Caroline gasped. "Oh, gosh, I'm sorry!"

"It's okay," he managed to say evenly. He shook his hand though it had already healed. "No contact," he stated as a reminder for both of them. "It's not your fault."

"So, is that, like, only a thing that happens between the two of you, or…?"

Caroline whipped around to see the girl who had sidestepped out of her way. The girl was tall, built like an athlete, with a blonde braid on her shoulder. Caroline looked back to Stefan for an explanation, but she interrupted him before he could even open his mouth.

"Is this _another_ ex-girlfriend?" Caroline hissed. The halls were nearly empty at that point, but Caroline hated to make a scene.

"How many exes do you have running around, Stef?" the girl nearly laughed, raising her eyebrows to Stefan. He shifted uncomfortably under Caroline's hard stare. "Stefan and I were never together; I'm way too old for him."

Caroline's head turned to the other blonde suddenly, scrutinizing her confident posture. "Then who the hell are you?"

"Rebecca Sutton," she explained with a smirk. It reminded Caroline of… "I'm Damon and Stefan's childhood friend."

"Best friend," Stefan corrected automatically. Caroline's attention snapped back to him; her hair fanned around her from the sudden moment.

"Wait, isn't that Damon's shirt?" Caroline demanded of the younger Salvatore. "Isn't it the shirt I bought for him last Christmas?"

"He said I could borrow it. Said it was the comfiest." Rebecca shrugged. "I'd shake your hand, but I rather not burn my fingerprints off. What even happened to you?"

"Stefan's _ex_ cast a nasty little spell to make my skin like vervain," Caroline seethed, gripping the strap on her messenger bag with a glare thrown to Stefan. "I take it your charm didn't work on getting Valerie to undo the spell."

"Uh, I haven't spoken to her yet," Stefan confessed as he started to walk down the hall. The two girls followed, Rebecca lagging behind a little. Stefan glanced nervously toward his friend, but Caroline followed his secret gaze. Rebecca crossed her arms as her own convicting stare bore into Stefan's face.

"You're avoiding," Rebecca declared.

"No, there's nothing to avoid," Stefan defended confidently. Rebecca scoffed, rolling her eyes. Caroline smiled a little, already liking this new girl.

"Well, Stefan, she _was_ your first love," Caroline stated, causing Rebecca's eyebrows to shoot up, "and then she just left you hanging… You're not the _least_ bit curious why?"

"She hasn't contacted me in the four mouths since she's back," Stefan shrugged, giving Rebecca a meaningful look but Caroline couldn't place its meaning, "so I'm assuming she's as over it as I am."

"Yeah, but that is _quite_ an assumption," Rebecca shot, defending Caroline, "considering she's the reason why you and your girlfriend can't even touch."

"Who asked you, Becca?" Stefan snapped. Rebecca raised a brow at his attitude, and Stefan sighed, turning to Caroline. "Unfortunately, she's the Heretic that I'm least concerned about right now."

"Oh, God," Caroline groaned. "Who now?"

"Let's just say it involves two bored 'mean girls' on a campus full of easy targets. Fortunately, I have come up with a _genius_ plan to keep them occupied while Damon sorts out his Oscar problem." Stefan held up a folded flyer proudly; Caroline took it into her hands; it was for the Saints and Sinners dance she had wanted to attend.

" 'Genius plan'? Did Damon teach you how to _brag_ too?" Rebecca muttered. Caroline glanced at the sulking vampire with a little grin. "It's not even that _clever_."

"The dance…" Caroline echoed. Stefan hummed his affirmation with a proud smile. "Full of potential victims," Caroline reminded him.

" _And_ distractions all in one place," Stefan reasoned. "Easy to babysit. I think the hardest part will be feigning enthusiasm."

"Yeah, and they'll never fall for it… _unless_ …" Caroline grinned, more to herself than Stefan or Rebecca. "Unless they think it's their idea." Without explanation, Caroline took the flyer and bustled through the halls to find the two Heretics and take care of the situation.

"I can definitely see why you like her... hell, even _I_ like her," was the last thing Caroline could hear Rebecca say to Stefan before she disappeared with a smile.

* * *

Bonnie took the bus to the hospital on the edge of campus. Her thoughts sloshed around in her head like angry waves during a storm, threatening to drown her. She didn't want to ask a friend for a ride, and she certainly didn't want to see Alaric until it was time.

When she left Caroline, she had come to a very disturbing conclusion about her being—she was a tool, more than a friend. The notion wasn't foreign to her, but it was starting to grate on her nerves. It began even before she discovered her heritage, when Elena was desperate for comfort from a friend; Caroline was busy being perfect, so the responsibility had landed on Bonnie. Grams had taught her to be strong for others because she, Bonnie Bennett, was strong from birth. Grams may have been right about her strength, but Bonnie had to be strong in her self-preservation as well. She decided, after she found a way to raise Jo from the dead, whatever she did was on her own terms, not based on the obligation or demand of others.

When Bonnie entered the morgue, it was empty. It was cold, but Bonnie's skin was already on fire from her swirling thoughts. Though she was grateful the visions from the Phoenix Stone were gone, she was not looking forward to working with the relic. She walked to the center of the room, seeing Jo's covered body, blue and decaying, on a metal gurney. Alaric had taken her to see the body before, so the shock factor was gone, but Bonnie couldn't help but to feel remorse. If Bonnie could bring her back, would she be tearing Jo from a peaceful place?

"What a better way to spend Halloween, huh?"

Bonnie's compressed brow relaxed when she saw Alaric stroll into the room. He had told her he had to pay off the mortician. She could tell he was trying to be light, trying to pull a "Damon" and tell a joke to alleviate the mood, but she was not having it. At all.

"Yeah, why would I want to go to some stupid Halloween party, like a _normal_ student?" Bonnie ranted. Alaric seemed startled by her outburst. "And maybe meet a nice guy—or even a not-so-nice guy—have a fun, drunk Halloween hook-up? When I can be _here_ , struggling to raise the dead?" She lowered her eyes at her heated confession and at Alaric's amused smirk.

"Well, if it makes any difference… this is worth some _serious_ extra credit," Alaric offered with the same smile. Bonnie rolled her eyes at the ridiculous comment.

"Oh, you _think_?" They shared a smile. She was glad that Alaric knew how absurd their lives were. "Whether or not I'm capable, you're lucky I'm willing because the visions from that stone scare the hell out of me." She was serious and stern, searching Alaric's face intently. He pursed his lips and nodded. For an extra measure, she gave a threatening glare. "So, _don't_ rush me."

"Well, that's too bad," they heard from the doorway of the room. Damon half-dragged the desiccated Oscar into the room with strained effort as he said, "Because we have to bring _this_ guy back to life. Now."

* * *

For a human, the dance was loud. For a vampire, the dance was a clamor.

When Caroline entered the room, the first thing she heard was rushing blood and thudding heartbeats. She could smell the alcohol and the sweat, mixed with different perfumes and colognes. The music was deafening, topped by laughter and voices raised above the music.

She loved it.

The blonde swayed as a path opened in the crowd for her. She recognized some people from her classes, getting loose and getting wild. She almost wished she had been part of the party committee, but she had promised Elena she wouldn't try to run the entire school until her junior year. She finally found Stefan, waiting for her with an amused smile. He was wearing a red and black plaid shirt and a leather jacket. He went with the "sinner" approach.

"Nice costume for a two-hour notice," he mused, eyeing her. He seemed to enjoy the short white dress she chose; she had attached little feathery wings to the back of the dress, and she accessorized with a halo headband. She nearly beamed.

"Oh, thank you," she simpered.

"You weren't—oh, I don't know—already _coming_ to this, and just, uh, _forgot_ to invite me?" Caroline closed her eyes, dreading the rest of the night if he was going to sass her for the bit of information she withheld.

"I didn't _forget_ to invite you!" she defended, shifting her weight from one leg to the other. Stefan maintained his teasing gaze. "I just felt like… a Halloween party wasn't great _first date_ material," she explained. Her face reddened as Stefan's eyes glittered.

"So, then, this _isn't_ our first date?"

"Well, it depends." Caroline raised a tempting brow. "What do _you_ think it is?"

With a tight smile, his eyes raked over her barely clad body. He finally delivered his reply, his eyes obviously overflowing with lust.

"Torture."

"Yeah, it's torture listening to this verbal foreplay," a rough female voice interjected. Both vampires turned to see Rebecca emerge from the crowd with an amber drink in hand. She wore a white t-shirt tucked into a white pencil skirt, but a matching red lace bra and garter belt clearly printed through her blouse and skirt.

"I feel like it's a sin to see you wearing something so provocative when you're like my sister," Stefan said with discomfort. Caroline secretly appreciated it, though she was still slightly embarrassed by the other blonde's comment.

"Good thing you dressed like a sinner, hmm?" Rebecca nudged Caroline with her elbow and yelped at the sting. "Wow, that's annoying."

"I _know_ ," Caroline whined.

"I'm sure you have a witty name for your costume," Stefan remarked, trying to distract the two young women. Rebecca grinned, throwing back her drink without a wince. Caroline could see the resemblance of Damon.

"Clearly, I am the 'devil in disguise'," Rebecca declared pompously. She surveyed her empty glass, musing, "For an institution-run party, you guys certainly have a good selection of booze. We should get drinks—I'm buying."

"Well, we're kind of on patrol, remember?" Caroline raised a brow. Rebecca raised one back as a challenge. Caroline could tell the older vampire had probably always been an alpha female. "Though, I'm sure one drink wouldn't kill anyone."

"Don't let her bully you around," Stefan advised, eyeing Caroline carefully. Rebecca rolled her eyes at the indirect display of affection.

"Don't let him tell you how to live your life, honey." Rebecca's voice was firm; it reminded Caroline of her mother whenever she scolded her. "They're here, heading straight for the bar. Hence, anyone want drinks?" Caroline looked to Stefan for guidance, but his face was immoveable. Rebecca smirked. "No? Too bad."

Rebecca danced her way through the crowd, laughing as random people danced with or against her. Caroline pursed her lips as she studied the scene. The older blonde was careless, seeking any thrill… it was hard to see Stefan ever being friends with her. Damon filled that quota.

"I hate when she gets like this."

"Do you think we'll have to keep an eye on her too?" Caroline muttered close to him, careful not to touch him by accident.

Stefan just sighed. "Guess it's time for us to babysit.

* * *

It was probably distracting, but Damon could not stand still. While biting his cuticles, he paced to and away from the metal table with Oscar's still dead body. Alaric eyed him from time to time, as he stood next to their witch friend with critical eyes and crossed arms.

Damon knew Bonnie. He knew Bonnie's power. He knew Bonnie's magic. More importantly, he was confident in her magic, in her power, and in Bonnie herself. After all, she was a Bennett witch. So, whatever the problem with the spell she was trying to perform clearly had nothing to do with her. It was probably that stupid stone Alaric found that wasn't doing the job.

Damon listened to the whispery mantra Bonnie recited; the more he heard it, the harder he bit at his fingers. He had felt his cell phone vibrate once in his pocket an hour or so ago, but he had ignored it when Bonnie had stopped her chanting and had flipped through the grimoire to find another spell.

As he walked toward the table again, Oscar's body shuddered against the metal. Bonnie gasped. Everyone stopped moving. Oscar's eyes flew open. Everyone probably stopped breathing. Then his eyes snapped shut.

After a moment, Bonnie said bitingly, "Scratch that one off the list." Damon groaned, slamming his hand down on the table behind him.

"Hey," Alaric scolded, "you're not the only one banking on this."

"It's not for _me_ , Ric!" Damon shot. First Stefan accused him of selfishly trying to protect Elena, and now Alaric? This was for Elena, his beacon in the darkness, the love of his life. "Why does everything have to be about _me_ today?"

"Will the both of you just _shut up_?" Bonnie interrupted. Damon felt like a child, like when Lily, Florence, or even Abigail scolded him for playing too rough. "The stone _works_. I think it's creating a bridge between the body and the spirit. I just have to find a spell that makes that bridge permanent."

The sound of Damon's cell phone vibrating in his pocket again caused him to sigh. He turned away and checked the screen. Luckily, it was his brother and not his not-so-much mother.

"So, how goes the diversion?" he inquired immediately with a sour smile. He knew Stefan couldn't see it, but he hoped it translated to his brother.

"Three," Stefan reported. The background was loud; Damon could almost hear the sweaty bodies gyrating. "That's the number of people Caroline, Becca, and I have saved— _barely_."

"Beck? She's with you?" Damon frowned. He didn't know what she would have been up to, but he just figured Stefan wouldn't want her as a third-wheel on his pseudo-date with Caroline.

"Again, barely," Stefan chuckled. "Right now, she's dancing. Before, she was drinking shots with some fraternity guys… and doing body-shots off of one or two sorority girls." Damon groaned, a little peeved he was missing all the fun.

"So, did you call just to _brag_?"

"How much longer?" The seriousness in his voice was clear. Rebecca may have been helping the two, but even three vampires against two Heretics in a sea of humans wasn't enough.

Just as his brother asked, Damon heard the sudden crackle of fire and Bonnie's cry. "Oh, crap, Ric, put it out!" Damon turned around just in time to see Alaric taking a fire extinguisher to Oscar's now burning body.

"I think we're close."

* * *

"Do you think they just _forgot_ they're here to _murder_ people?"

Stefan and Caroline sat at one of the few tables still on the floor; the others had been cleared away for the dance floor. Stefan leaned against the table, watching Nora dance freely while Mary Louise shifted uncomfortably nearby. Caroline leaned onto the table too, to match his gaze; Stefan reflexively pulled away, hoping she didn't notice.

"No, no, they're just caught up in their own drama," Caroline explained, enraptured by the scene between the two Heretics. Stefan watched Caroline's animated expression as she explained. "See, Nora wants some breathing room, but Mary Louise is scared that, if she gives it to her, Nora is just going to leave her."

Stefan frowned, trying to see where Caroline had deduced that conclusion. Sure, it was evident Mary Louise was having a hard time adjusting to the times; he would even go as far as to speculate she was a little rigid, but he had attributed it to her personality.

"You got all of that," Stefan said, gesturing to Caroline then gestured toward the two witch vampires, "from that?"

"You could never see the drama, even if it was right in front of you," Rebecca sighed as she sauntered up to the couple. Stefan could tell Caroline was torn between really liking Rebecca and really _hating_ her. Rebecca, he knew, was used to that treatment, especially from the girls during their human years. "Have you guys even had _one_ drink yet?"

"I think you had enough for all three of us," Caroline commented quietly. Rebecca doubled over with laughter, gripping the back of Caroline's chair for support.

"I see why you like her," Rebecca mused, "she's beautiful and witty." Caroline seemed to glow from the compliment. "Let me bring you guys something to drink, _please_?"

"Maybe, after all of this is finished, we'll have a celebratory round," Stefan offered. During Council meetings, Damon, Ezekiel, and Rebecca would sneak out the alcohol when Abigail and Julia weren't looking; Rebecca's current behavior reminded Stefan of those dreadful times. Rebecca pouted.

"Caroline, darling, can you tell your boyfriend to stop being such a drag, please?" Rebecca said lowly to Caroline, though she knew Stefan could hear her. Caroline just giggled. Stefan rolled his eyes and looked back to the dancefloor as the song switched to a slower tempo. Mary Louise and Nora were wrapped in each other's arms.

"I guess you guys were wrong," Stefan shrugged. Rebecca and Caroline frowned at the couple.

"They don't really seem like they belong together, do they?" Rebecca muttered, more to herself as she eyed the two swaying. "But you two," she said, pointing between the blushing vampires, "you two are the perfect match, I think."

"Hey, excuse me." A tall, shirtless guy walked up behind Rebecca with a smirk. "You're the 'devil in disguise', right? From the bar?"

"The name's Sue," she lied with a sultry smile. "I take it you want to dance?"

"Sure, but there's a sorority girl who said you did body-shots from her neck and bellybutton—"

"Gotta go, guys," Rebecca winked, leading the shirtless human back into the dancing college students. Stefan scoffed; she hadn't changed one bit.

"You know, I'd ask you to dance, but—"

"But I'd kill you," Caroline muttered bitterly, "How convenient." Stefan pursed his lips as she continued. "If only there were a person you could just talk to about it…!"

"I will ask Valerie to undo it, once Damon brings Oscar back to life," Stefan reassured her gently. She didn't seem to be buying it.

"Wow, so you're not _technically_ avoiding… you're just waiting for Damon to raise the dead! Okay," she grumbled sarcastically.

"Valerie's been dead to me for 150 years," Stefan tried to reason.

"Well, she's back now!" Caroline nearly shouted. Stefan's eyebrows shot up. "And you're scared that you're going to look her in the eye, and all of your feelings are going to come back, and, you know, the infatuation and the abandonment, and the whole _freaking_ fairytale!"

Stefan paused to study Caroline under the rosy lights. "That's why _I'm_ scared of…? Or, that's what _you're_ scared of?"

"It…can be both!" Caroline erupted. "God, you know what? Your friend is right. I am just too sober to be talking about this."

Even if Stefan could have stopped Caroline from walking away, he knew it was better if he didn't.

* * *

 **Mystic Falls 1857**

" _Did you hear that?"_

 _Damon walked alongside his ten-year-old brother, who stared into the dense woods with wide eyes. Damon chuckled and wrapped a protective arm around his tense, scrunched shoulders. The young boy startled but relaxed against the embrace of his older brother._

" _Oh, Stef, stop being such a little girl!" Rebecca, the only girl in the group, teased lightly. Damon glanced over at the girl dressed in her older brother's clothes; he had to purse his lips to repress his laughter. She leaned over to plant a kiss on Stefan's forehead before returning her eyes to the path. Her long legs stepped over fallen branches and overgrown roots expertly. Feeling Damon's stagnate gaze, Rebecca looked up with a sardonic glance. "What are you looking at, Mr. Salvatore?"_

" _Only the scariest thing in this forest." Ezekiel's interjection saved Damon from formulating a smart remark. The older Sutton bumped his sister's shoulder before throwing an arm around her shoulders casually. It, however, looked like she was half-carrying him. "Are we almost there?"_

" _Winded, are we, Brother?" Rebecca questioned almost innocently. Damon smirked; one of the things he admired about Rebecca was her ability to hide her edged spirit under a veil of harmlessly articulated words. "Don't worry, little Zeke; we can take a break if you'd like."_

" _And return before the sun rises? I think not." Despite his statement, Ezekiel stopped, doubling over to catch his breath. The rest of the group slowed to a stop as well, glancing around to make sure they weren't being followed—or hunted. "You're lucky I even allowed you to come along."_

 _With Stefan's face buried into his side and Ezekiel's hanging head, Damon shared a knowing look with Rebecca. She had been sneaking out of the house almost every night for a few months now, to meet with either one or both of the Salvatore boys. Even in the dim moonlight, Damon could see blush flood Rebecca's coy face._

" _Oh, yes, I am_ truly _lucky that you've unlocked the keys to my shackles," Rebecca crooned, hiding again behind a shroud of sarcasm. "Thank you, gracious Master." She curtsied by holding the billows of her trousers. "I am forever indebted to you."_

" _Oh, hush, Becky," Ezekiel shot. He straightened and offered his bent arm for his sister to link her arm with his. They gave each other mockingly sweet smile before continuing forward._

" _Wait… I think I see it!" Damon announced after a moment of silence. He released Stefan and barreled through the brush, into the shadows. Stefan yelped, and Damon barely registered Ezekiel taking his place. A moment later, the dark-haired Salvatore heard his heavy breathing accompanied by Rebecca's as she matched his pace. Her blonde hair pulled back by a blue ribbon, swung behind her as she looked over at Damon with an elastic smile._

" _I cannot believe we found it," Rebecca panted as they slowed to a trot._

 _In the middle of a clearing, there was a two-story cabin. It had, at least, five rooms. A lit lamp hung over the door. A chime over the porch steps swayed with the light breeze._

 _About two decades ago, on the morning after Halloween, someone had found the very house full of dead bodies. The bloodied corpses were identified as the Turner family—the wife, the three daughters, the two sons—but there was one person missing. Daniel Turner himself. A rumor circulated throughout the town that the lumberjack had been possessed by a demon on the night of Halloween and, overcome by insanity, hacked his family. The story quickly morphed into a legend; it said, on Halloween night, any passerby could hear the cries of the dying family and the glowing red eyes of the murderous Daniel Turner._

 _Damon barred his arm in front of Rebecca as she tried to walk up to the porch. Ezekiel and a whimpering Stefan caught up with the two, and Ezekiel gripped his sister's shoulder to reinforce Damon's barricade. The four children gawked at the house with mystified stares. Damon felt Rebecca's hand grip his hand; he knew she was trying to be as brave as he was trying to be._

" _Okay, we saw it, let's—"_

 _A wail cut Ezekiel off. Even Damon jumped at the sound. But then they heard metallic squeaking. A grunt… and rhythmic moaning…_

" _Wait a second… is this a br…"_

" _Hey! What are you kids doing out here?" A shrill voice came from the doorway, a silhouette of a woman made by the light within the cabin. "Excuse me, but isn't it well past your bed times?"_

" _Is someone dying in there?" Stefan quipped with a shaky voice. Damon caught Rebecca throwing a hand over her giggling mouth, and Ezekiel clapped a hand over Stefan's naïve mouth. The woman in the brothel's doorway laughed._

" _Quite the opposite, darling… You lot should head home. The sun'll come up soon."_

" _Is the legend true?" Rebecca blurted. Knowing the cabin wasn't haunted, she took a confident step forward. "Don't you get scared?"_

" _We have many… visitors, honey." The woman hesitated; Damon watched her fidget with her skirt. "We don't really know if it's true, but if it is, I must really insist you children head home, where it's safe."_

" _Come on," Ezekiel muttered, leading Stefan back into the woods. Damon reached to grip Rebecca's hand. He had to tug her out of her trance on the woman._

" _Well, that was a failure," Rebecca grumbled as she finally marched back the way they had come._

" _Was not," Damon countered. "Now we know a place that'll hire you for your expert work.."_

" _Damon Salvatore!" the teen hissed though she was laughing._

 _Rebecca nudged him with her shoulder, and he laughed, capturing her thin body. They were a few feet behind Ezekiel and Stefan, so Damon knew their closeness would remain a secret. Rebecca placed a hand on his chest, searching his face. He just smirked, placing a chaste kiss on her lips._

" _Happy Halloween, B—"_

 _Before he could finish, Rebecca kissed him passionately. He could feel her trembling, and he realized she was still scared from the entire night. He held her protectively as he kissed her back. The tension in her back dissipated after a moment, and she pulled away from his face with a sigh._

" _Happy Halloween, Damon."_

* * *

Stefan was right. Alaric was right. Even his own mother was right though he'd never, ever admit that last one.

He wouldn't have done this if it wasn't necessary.

 _Dear Elena,_

 _Yes, you heard that correctly—hell has frozen over. I'm writing it all down._

 _Granted, I'm half a bottle in, thanks to my 1950 Chateau Cheval Blanc, a bottle I waited sixty-five years to open. I used to spend nights sitting in my wine cellar, convincing myself I could hear it age… tannins growing, fermenting… but appreciating its beauty didn't make time go by any faster. The bottle just laid there, on its shelf, torturing me while I waited for Katherine… and time stood still. Eventually, I convinced myself that no sip of that wine could_ _ever_ _taste as good as I dreamt it would._

 _So, I hid the bottle and walked away. And_ _that_ _is the story of why I drink bourbon._

 _I don't know who I am without you, but I know that, as long as I am with you, time will stand still._

 _So, who is Damon Salvatore without Elena Gilbert?_

 _A selfish friend?_

 _A jealous brother?_

 _A horrible son…?_

 _Or, maybe, with a little luck, I'll do right by you._

 _Because you may be a thousand miles away—or a hundred years away—but… you're still here with me. And my heart is_ _right there_ _in that coffin with you._

 _Until you come back to me…_

Damon tucked the folded page into Elena's hand before shutting the coffin for good.

* * *

Vampires metabolize at an accelerated rate, but, when Stefan had mentioned his plan to trick the Heretics into siphoning Caroline's curse, Rebecca had just finished a line of seven tequila shots. She blinked a few times before throwing two thumbs up. Immediately after, someone grabbed her by the waist and whisked her onto the dancefloor.

When the two vampires did not return, Rebecca knew they must have been successful in their plan and were _celebrating_.

The vampire was the first to return to the apartment. Taking the opportunity to use the little hot water the shower had to offer, she scrubbed her skin raw under the poor water pressure. Her body had been covered with a mixture of her own sweat, the sweat of several humans, _plus_ the alcohol she had poured onto herself for body shots.

Rebecca actually had fun at the party. She spent most of the night being outrageous, but she did sober enough to help Stefan and Caroline protect the humans. She danced with men and women alike, grinding and gyrating her body across the dancefloor. She even had a steamy dance with Nora; Mary Louise almost tore her arm off as she "compelled" her to stay away. Rebecca was just lucky either Heretic didn't bite into her, finding out she wasn't human. Rebecca drank one of each drink behind the bar though she spent more time with a tequila bottle than the rest. She had initiated the body shots—she licked salt from various people's body, bit into limes held in other people's mouths, and sucked alcohol out of many sorority girls' navels. She even held a contest with the fraternity boys—the best dancers could do body shots off her.

As a human, Rebecca was as reckless as the times allowed. As time went on, her vampirism paved the way for a completely new form of audacity.

Once clean, she pulled on one of Damon's t-shirts and a pair of cotton shorts, and she fixed a cup of tea. She was passing the time, waiting for someone else to come back, before she went to sleep. The tea was chamomile; it'd help her settle down from the wild night.

When she heard the front door open, she peeked her head out of the kitchen. Alaric held a pale, dark-haired woman. The vampire recognized her as the woman Alaric cried over and drank about every night, Jo Laughlin, his late fiancé. Now, here she was, her body pinking by the second. Speeding over, Rebecca ignored the man's protests and she took the sleeping woman's body easily. She could _feel_ Jo's heartbeat—it was nerve-racking. Rebecca laid the woman onto Alaric's bed carefully and gently swaddled her as Alaric stood near.

"Pictures do not do her justice," Rebecca commented, more to herself, but she could hear the smile in Alaric's voice as he spoke.

"Thank you." She knew the gratitude was due to a combination of her assistance and her compliment. He never took his eyes off his wife-to-be. He probably thought she would disappear if he did—or, at least, that was how Rebecca would feel if she was in his shoes.

"Of course. I can leave tonight if that's what you want," Rebecca offered politely.

"You can stay one more night," Alaric allowed. "I'm sure Damon figured out a way to get back into Mystic Falls. So, maybe, you could—" The man stifled a yawn, covering it with the back of his hand.

"Sure," Rebecca interrupted before he could continue his previous thought. "Get some rest, Alaric… she's here. And she's _alive_."

"Yeah…" The human didn't sound convinced though his eyes studied the love of his life extensively. Rebecca chuckled, patting his back reassuringly.

"Don't stare at her all night," she commented knowingly. "Despite popular belief, it's not romantic. It's just plain _creepy_."

"I'll keep that in mind." He allowed a laugh and tore his eyes away from Jo long enough to smile gratefully at his temporary roommate. "Good night, Rebecca."

Settled in the guest bed, Rebecca took her final sips of her tea when Damon finally walked into the room. He staggered a moment, clearly startled by Rebecca's alert stare, but it didn't last very long. Without words, the dark-haired vampire stripped down to his undergarments and settled under the blanket. Rebecca studied the tension in his back muscles, wondering what had happened to make him so tense.

"How did the trade-off finally go?" she said quietly. The sound of her voice was less about Alaric eavesdropping and more about Damon's fragility.

"It was standard."

"Are you happy?"

"As happy as I can be, Beck. I'm just waiting decades for her to be back in my arms—no big deal." Rebecca chewed her bottom lip, irritated by his snippy attitude. He allowed a deep sigh. "I'll never let her go."

"I know. She's safe now… that's all that matters." Rebecca placed a hand on his pale back, letting it travel to his shoulder. She gave it a light squeeze, hoping it'd lift his spirits. "It'll be worth it. You still got the girl."

"I have a long day tomorrow, Rebecca." Rebecca pulled her hand away as if he had burned her. The use of her full name felt like a lash against her face. "I'll talk to you in the morning or something."

"Sure." Now would be a good time for a walk, despite it was nearly morning. "Good night, Damon."

* * *

 **Why must Damon be so cold toward Rebecca? She's only trying to help!**

 **Enjoy! And don't forget to review!**

 **Again, Happy New Year!**

 **xo,**

 **glass27doll**


	12. V-Card Valerie

**A/N: So many follows so many favorites! Thank you so much! I know, I know, the story is going a bit slow, but, as I've said, I'm establishing Rebecca and her relationship with our favorite Salvatores.**

 **Here's a little hint/spoiler: wait until the** ** _party_** **chapter.**

 **Send me some reviews/critiques/suggestions, I** ** _love_** **reading them!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own any of the TVD characters/plotlines/dialogue. I only own the Suttons and their storylines.**

* * *

 **Chapter 10**

V-card Valerie

"What, did Damon kick you out of bed? How unlike him."

Rebecca's nostrils prickled at the sharp scent of his aftershave, and she groaned.

Gray-tinted sunlight streamed through the windows, causing her revert to her true form—a creature of the night. The blonde peered over her shoulder through her lashes. The veins under her eyes swelled and crept down her face as she studied the human holding a cup of coffee. His throat was just ripe for the taking. She hadn't fed in a few days, and she should have last night, but somehow, the copious amount of alcohol and dancing had distracted her from her bloodlust.

She twisted around and sat up sluggishly. Vampires do _not_ have hangovers—one of the benefits of this horrific life. What was she so groggy and weak?

Alaric, despite the deep, dark grooves under his eyes, looked refreshed. His lips curved upward, and the smile _actually_ reached his eyes. He stood taller, shoulders held up by confidence; when she had first seen him, it was a wonder how he could even push himself out of bed.

The man looked good happy.

With an amused smirk, he patiently stood by the couch. Rebecca felt his stare absorb her bleary state. She received the mug he offered keenly. She brought the mug to her lips, savoring the heat against her lips and the scent wafting up to kiss her face. Then, she stopped. Her eyes snapped up to Alaric.

"Please tell me you're not trying to poison me again. I need this _way_ too much."

"Not this time." Alaric chuckled; the sound was hearty and… pure. Rebecca was genuinely glad for his change of demeanor. She took a gulp of her coffee and sighed contently.

"I was giving him space, by the way," Rebecca replied offhandedly. The man raised a brow. "Damon didn't _really_ get his girl, so I figured he didn't need me distracting him from actually dealing with his feelings."

"Damon? Damon Salvatore?" Alaric raised both of his eyebrows incredulously. Rebecca could barely keep her eyes open. "Damon's life is a _series_ of distractions. The man doesn't grapple with _feelings_."

"He acts like the big bad wolf, but the poor man used to be as tame as a puppy."

"Hard to believe." He glanced behind her reflexively. She followed his gaze curiously. Jo's slumbering body curled in a sea of blankets on his bed.

"She's been dead for four months… you'd think she'd had enough rest," she jeered. Alaric scoffed, his eyes falling back on the vampire. A familiar frown creased his face, causing her smirk to falter.

"Caroline should have some blood bags," he offered. If Rebecca hadn't been a vampire, she would have never heard him. She noticed his body tense, his body full of potential energy. His eyes darted to the coffee table, where she knew a hidden wooden stake laid.

"Oh… am I indecent?" she inquired innocently, touching the skin under her eyes. She heard the sudden increase of his heartbeat when Alaric pursed his lips and nodded.

She usually could feel when the veins reappeared; it made her apprehensive that she hadn't this time. She closed her eyes, focusing on the smell and taste of her coffee: the coffee itself had a crisp, complex fragrance; the seasonal creamer Alaric used overwhelmed her senses with spices. She took another lingering sip of the coffee, her animalistic thoughts muted by the rich, warm flavor. She finally felt her need to tear into Alaric's jugular pass as her face returned to normalcy.

"Damon left." Rebecca raised a brow at the man's pressured confession. She looked over her shoulder to see the disheveled bed in the guest room. Another gulp of coffee warmed her chest. "He said something about Stefan…"

"I'm a big girl, Alaric. I spend over a century without him." She sank into the couch and sighed. "I told him I'd help him get the girl, and I did, so I guess it's time to do what I came here to do, and head out—"

"Oh, good, you're awake!"

Rebecca and Alaric turned to the small foyer. Damon held a full tray of coffees and a paper bag in one hand, and he checked his cell phone with the other hand. The vampire's hair was tousled, his face swollen with sleep, and his expression slightly disoriented; he wore the same t-shirt from yesterday under his leather jacket and still smelled of dirt and pines.

"That I am," Rebecca replied calmly. She glanced up at Alaric; confusion painted his usual frowning face.

"I thought you and Stefan were—"

"We are. I was just getting…" Damon strolled into the living room, plopping down on the couch next to Rebecca. His smile sagged at the sight of Rebecca's mug. "You have—I bought— _Damn_ it, Ric."

"Like I said, I thought you weren't coming back."

"You did a coffee run for…" Rebecca eyed the tray. "For four people? You don't seem like the morning-coffee kind of guy."

"That's 'cause he's the morning-bourbon kind of guy," Alaric muttered.

"I need something a little stronger than caffeine in the mornings," Damon sneered and winked at Rebecca. "One was for each of you, and the others for Stefan and Caroline." Damon's eyebrows bounced mischievously as he revealed, "Apparently, Baby Brother and Blondie finally engaged in _amorous congress_." Rebecca covered her giggle; Alaric, on the other hand, was lost by the dated slang.

"Awww, my baby is all grown up, tossing dames into beds," Rebecca crooned, placing a hand dramatically over her heart. Damon laughed, and Alaric rolled his eyes. "Why are you going to steal Stefan away?"

"I'll tell you on the way…" Damon stretched his arm around the back of the sofa and glanced at the sleeping woman in Alaric's room. "How is she doing?"

"She's just been sleeping," Alaric replied easily, matching Damon's gaze. Rebecca noted the ghost of a sweet smile on the man's face.

"You'd think being dead would have been sufficient rest," Damon grumbled. Rebecca noticed Alaric's brows scrunch together, but Damon missed it. "Oh, I also bought you some sort of fruit muffin, Beck."

"Thanks, but you know what I could _really_ go for?" His languidly arched brow caught her by surprise. "I, uh, could go for something a little more… A-positive."

His laugh didn't startle her as much as his hand clapped against her thigh did. "I _completely_ agree. Caroline has some blood bags in her dorm. We'll raid her fridge when we get there. I'm going to take a shower now, so try to be ready by the time I am."

"Yes, sir!" Rebecca saluted with a playfully stern expression. His blue gaze turned upward, and Rebecca childishly snickered. He ruffled her hair before speeding away into the bathroom.

Rebecca grabbed the paper bag off the coffee table and pulled the sugary pastry from it. A smile tugged her lips. It was a blueberry-glazed muffin. One spring, Julia had made dozens of blueberry muffins for the Easter service, but the younger siblings and the Salvatores, led by Rebecca's sticky fingers, made sure only half of the batch made it.

She broke a piece off the top and popped it into her mouth. For years, her stomach turned at the thought of a muffin or a blueberry; Damon had played on this for as long as he could. This was his form of a practical joke. Rebecca, slipping out of her past, lifted the muffin, offering it to Alaric, but his arms folded across his chest tightly.

The vampire and the human locked eyes until the water in the bathroom started running. Rebecca heard the muted thud of Damon's clothes onto the tile and the muted metallic whoosh of the curtain opening and closing.

"What's with the judgment going on here?" Rebecca gestured with widespread fingers to Alaric's set face and crossed arms.

"What happened to 'you're a big girl' and you're going to 'head out'?"

Rebecca's gaze tapered at his pejorative tone. "Do you dislike me _that_ much? Do you _really_ think I'm that big of a danger to whatever faux family Damon and Stefan have pieced together since coming back to Mystic Falls?"

"I think anyone who mysteriously pops back into anyone's life is a threat." His pompous tone grated on her humanity. "Nonetheless, a _vampire_."

Rebecca stood, matching Alaric's height. Though he didn't retreat, his body displayed all the signs; though he would admit to apprehension, not fear, his body had all the telltale symptoms. Her eyes raked over him triumphantly.

"Like I said, Alaric," she returned coolly, "I've lived without him for over a century. We have a bit of catching up to do."

* * *

Alaric barely heard the sweeping sound of the front door opening. After Damon had left with his lapdog, Rebecca, following behind him keenly, Alaric planted a chair next to his bed—the same chair he had slept in for the night—and got comfortable. He wanted to be the first thing Jo saw when she finally woke.

He leaned forward on his elbows and gently folded his hands around Jo's cool fingers. His gaze painted over Jo's delicate figures as the sunlight bathed the room. The clouds had parted ways over Whitmore; Alaric hoped it was a sign of Someone smiling down on him, ready to grace him with good fortune.

Jo was so beautiful, so… alive.

Alaric had spent four dragging months in the morgue, staring at her lifeless body, trying to figure out a way to reverse that, willing himself not to give up on his dwindling hope. The man watched his once vibrant bride transition through a series of dull, muted colors: from a purplish gray, to a blueish gray, and to a final, pallid gray.

Now, her fair skin was flushed and dewy. Her ashen hair regained its luster, and he waited devotedly to see her crystalline eyes once again.

"Hey, how is she doing?"

Alaric looked over his shoulder, away from his serene wife, to the concerned young woman standing in the doorway with a box perched on her hip. Bonnie's eyes shifted between his face and his wife's.

"Well, she's been sleeping for twelve hours." The man leaned back, resting a folded arm over the back of his chair. "That's normal, right?"

"Yesterday, she was dead. Today, she's alive." The unease that had been in her demeanor fled as her arm hung over the box on her hip. The witch's eyes narrowed, as she delivered sarcastically, "Not sure ' _normal_ ' applies."

On a different track, Alaric's eyes fell on the box, eyeing it hopefully. "Please tell me that's food," he all but groaned. Bonnie's tight smile suggested otherwise.

"Term papers," Bonnie corrected. "They were cramming up your inbox. You _are_ still employed as a professor here."

Alaric scoffed and glanced back to catch the slight twinge in Jo's peaceful face. He met Bonnie half way, generally ushering her to the small living room. "Hey, do you want a job as my new TA?" His offer, encased in an overly excited voice, sounded like one a parent uses with a toddler. "All you have to do is write 'interesting point' in a few margins and then give everyone a B-plus."

" _Tempting_ ," Bonnie sassed with thin eyes. She handed the box over, and Alaric realized the weight of his responsibility quite literally. "But I need to figure out _exactly_ how I brought your wife back to the land of the _living_."

"Look, she's here. She's okay." Alaric realized those words were nearly identical to the ones Rebecca had extended to him the night before. "What does it matter now?"

"Because," Bonnie began, this time sounding like a patronizing parent, "in less than twenty-four hours, I raised _two_ people from the dead with a sketchy spell and something called a ' _Phoenix Stone_ '? _No_ research and _no_ rehearsal time—and _no_ contingency plan. And now that I have a little breathing room…" Bonnie punctuated her point with a deep breath. "I want to figure out what _kind_ of magic I was dealing with—just in case, I opened up Pandora's _rock_. So, can I have it back, please?"

Considering her words, Alaric studied the young woman's set jaw and fiery eyes. Bonnie Bennett had certainly grown into an assertive young woman and a strong witch. From the many trials her youth had dragged her through, she emerged confident and resolute. Alaric was proud of her and proud to be called her friend.

The man walked back into his bedroom and silently retrieved the glassy red stone from a box by his bedside. He returned and held it in front of Bonnie's face with a glint of mischief; whether she noticed, she didn't acknowledge it as she reached for the relic purposefully. He snatched it out of her reach, to which she rolled her eyes with a breathed laugh, and he finally placed the stone in the palm of her hand.

The young woman nodded with a tight smile and walked out of the apartment with tenacity. As the door slammed, Alaric noticed the body in his bed stir. His heartbeat increased its pace as he rushed to the chair by her side once again. Her lazy eyelids rose, and she had to blink a few times before her pale eyes darted around.

"Hey," Alaric cooed. His voice was barely a whisper, afraid he'd scare her further. "Hey, sweetheart. How are you feeling?"

Jo sluggishly propped herself up on her elbows, assessing herself to answer his question. She finally met his eyes and whispered her confession.

"I'm starving."

Alaric chuckled, gently reaching forward to rub her bare arm affectionately. She stared at the contact with wide eyes, and he slowly retracted his hand. "Me too, honey. I'll go figure out some food for us."

* * *

As Damon blinked into consciousness, he felt lighter. Half of the depression that engulfed him had been partially relieved. Who knew a full night's rest was the remedy. The other half had transformed into a hope of a new beginning. Though she was not there, Elena was still Damon's drive—the main reason he had not turned off his humanity—and he wanted to do right by her. She deserved that and more.

With great effort, Damon blindly turned over, shifting his weight under the sheets, and opened his eyes a fraction. He expected to see Rebecca's blonde hair splayed all over her side, a pillow drawn tightly to her chest; he wouldn't have even been surprised if she was already awake, blinking languidly with a slinky smile playing on her lips. Instead, the other side of the small bed was cold and undented—even her pillows were missing. In the dark, the vampire sat up and spotted Rebecca's long, contorted body on the sofa.

A thick guilt replaced the dissipated remorse he felt for Elena. He knew he had been offhanded with Rebecca the night before, shutting her out of his grieving process. He also knew she would understand as she always did. The woman had no bounds to what she would tolerate when it came to those she regarded as family. One of the qualities they shared.

The blame fogged his mind. Nagged him. He finally threw on whatever clothes was lying around and sped out of the apartment silently. He would, at least, try to make it up to her. He stood in a coffee shop line for nearly twenty minutes; he itched to compel his way to the front—but he didn't think Elena would have approved of his method. When he finally reached the counter, it took another fifteen minutes to get the four cups of coffee the way he ordered them and the blueberry muffin. He was sure the female employees had taken their time just to ogle at him.

Despite the hassle, it was worth it, to see Rebecca's not-so-secret smile as they strolled to Bonnie and Caroline's dorm building. Damon offered his bent arm to his old friend, to which she curtsied, pinching the hem of her long blouse, before placing her arm through his. He felt the envious stares of passing women, but Rebecca's body leaning against him was more present in his mind.

"Are you all right?" he inquired casually. He felt like his arm was the only support in Rebecca's body. Her golden eyes met his sluggishly.

"Just, uh, hungry." The corners of her mouth quirked feebly. The corners of his mouth plummeted.

"When was the last time you fed…?"

"…when Bonnie gave me that blood bag, in Myrtle Beach," came her whispered reply. Damon tilted her chin up, meeting her averted gaze with his persist one.

"I see you've kept up this habit too," he muttered, studying the shame written on her face. As teenagers, she seemed to avoid eating as frequently as possible; she had claimed times were rough and the other children needed the food more.

"I'll be fine."

Noting the curt response, Damon switched gears with his notorious smirk. "Stefan told me you had quite a good time at the party last night." She laughed as he continued, "And based off of those pictures you sent me, I'd say you were the queen of it."

When he was with Bonnie and Alaric, tensely waiting for Bonnie and the stone to cooperate, Damon had ignored the series of text messages he received. He finally gave into his boredom and was surprised to see the set of pictures Rebecca had sent him. The first photo was of her outlandish outfit, a tight set of white clothes over obviously red lace undergarments, her caption, _**the devil in disguise, you like?**_ The rest of the pictures were of her drinking and dancing escapades, including the body-shots she took as well as the ones she participated.

"I love a good party," was all she replied. Then, she chuckled at her own thoughts. "Stefan hated seeing me that way. If a drunk Caroline hadn't mentioned it, I still would have seen it. Oh, he's going to be _so_ mad when we show up."

"Last year, Caroline had turned off her humanity," Damon began, "and Stefan, with his usual 'hero hair' did too. He thought, since she liked him so much, it would switch her back to normal." He glanced at Rebecca, who watched him intently. " _Obviously_ , that was a bust, but they ended up shacking up without their humanities—so it's not like this time is any special."

"You know Stefan won't consider that their first time."

A brief laugh escaped his lips, and the dark-haired vampire shook his head. "Sometimes, I don't even know how we're related."

"What's it like?" Rebecca murmured suddenly. He felt her chin rest on his shoulder as she waited. His brows knit together, not sure to what she was referring.

"What is what like?" Damon idly opened the door and let her lead him into the main hall. There were only a few students ambling in and out of the air-conditioned building. The girls' room was at the end of their hall, located at the back of building for easier exits and sneak-ins.

"To have your humanity off."

Damon stopped walking and recoiled from his friend. Someone, clearly in a rush, grumbled profanities at the couple's sudden halt, but Damon didn't even register the human brush past him. Rebecca's eyebrows pinched up at the center. She had been a vampire for nearly as long as he had, and she had never turned it off? Not even once? How was that possible? Damon had always been proud to admit his similarities with Rebecca and Ezekiel…

…was she made of something stronger than he was?

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have—"

"You've _never_ turned it off?"

Rebecca's frantic attempt to push the conversation along fell, along with her tense shoulders. "By the time I figured out that was even a thing, I had gotten through years of agony." Her eyes fixed on the nonexistent lint on her tights. "I suppose, now that I know, I could turn it off just for—"

"Don't." Before he could realize it, Damon had taken ahold of Rebecca's arms and implored the single syllable with wild eyes. Her own eyes were round at his sudden fervor. "There's nothing _fun_ about it. Do _not_ turn it off unless you absolutely have to."

"I…"

"No, Rebecca," Damon cut. " _Promise_ me."

"Don't get me wrong, Damon—I've killed people. _So many people_." Her words pressed onto his face sadly. "I just… I just thought that's what being _this_ was like." A sardonic smile turned her lips. "After all, it couldn't _all_ be high and sexy times."

"I wish you hadn't gone through it alone." The sound of his confession made him very aware of his hands gripping her warm skin. He released her though his gaze never faltered from hers. "If someone had just been there to tell you…"

"If I had known, I would have flipped the switch." Rebecca shrugged with an indifferent frown. "And I probably would have kept it off. The only people who could have brought me back are dead…" Her eyes glittered mischievously. "Or, you know, are _dead_."

"Still."

"If I had my humanity off, Damon… I would have never returned to Mystic Falls and would have never learned you and Stefan were still alive. I wouldn't even set a foot on the eastern part of the United States. Hell, I probably would have stayed in Europe."

"You lived in Europe?" Desperate to change the mood, Damon took Rebecca's arm and linked it with him again before continuing through the familiar halls. Rebecca seemed to need the change too.

"Spent a few years in the Canary Islands." At the sound of her proud tone, Damon glanced at his friend. They had matching, naughty grins.

"I take it you spent quite some time on their nudist beaches."

"Oh, Damon," she chuckled. She leaned over, her lips to his ear, and said, "One of the many _perks_ to staying young forever."

* * *

The moment Caroline's eyes fluttered open, she was ready to swing her feet off the bed, start her morning with a shower and maybe a quick make-out session with Stefan, before destroying the mountain of work she had to make up. Brimming with determination, Caroline was ready to turn the tables on the semester, to prove to herself that no amount of hellfire could deter her from pursing the normalcy she craved.

Despite her buzzing enthusiasm, she couldn't deny the arms encasing her in a naked hug made her feel both safe and comforted. After she and Stefan cajoled Nora into siphoning Valerie's spell, through the means of threatening Mary Louise, the two vampires made up for wasted time. After her mother's death, she replied to Stefan's love confession with she needed time for personal growth. Her captivity gave her time to thoroughly contemplate what she would be missing if she didn't confess her reciprocated feelings. The night before made sure every sentiment was clear.

"This is torture for you, isn't it?" Stefan's smug, sleep voice bathed the nape of her neck. Caroline was never the type to stay in bed after she had woken up; a body next to her usually propelled her out of bed.

For Stefan, however, she was trying.

"No, no," she protested feebly, her voice reaching a higher octave. She felt the skeptical hum in his chest pressed against her back. "No, I am _so_ happy, just lying here and doing nothing… Just listening to you… breathe?" When her statement turned upward, into a question, she giggled at its absurdity.

" _Mm-hmm_." Stefan knew her better than she liked. "Just making a mental checklist of _all_ the things you need to do today…" Caroline scoffed at his accuracy, trying to keep a straight face. "Debating whether you should 'accidentally' _kick_ me awake…?"

"Did you say kick…" Caroline tossed to her other side, facing Stefan with a coy smile, "or did you say _kiss_?"

Eyes not even open, his mouth curved into a sleepy smile. She may not have liked staying in bed, but Stefan made the notion so tempting. She held his face as she gently pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. He hummed his approval, and she felt his smiling mouth against hers as he reinforced her kiss with a stronger one. Just as she was going to initiate a deeper kiss, hopefully leading to more, the dorm door opened.

"Good morning, Lovebirds!"

Putting a thin breathing space between her boyfriend and herself, Caroline groaned at the sound of Damon's cheerful and pert announcement.

"Oh no, Damon… they were just going to—oh, goodness, I'm so sorry!"

It was Stefan's turn to protest at the sound of the other female voice. Caroline threw her body away from his and sat up with the blanket hugged to her chest. Rebecca stood next to Damon with her hands childishly covering her eyes.

"Are you _kidding_ me?"

"I brought you some free-range, overpriced coffee." Damon held the cup out as Caroline untangled herself from the confides of her bed and its remaining occupant, with her blanket wrapped around her modestly. "One cream, two sugars— _just_ the way you like it."

Caroline's tapered gaze rolled as Damon shook the cup to tempt her. "Actually, I _hate_ sugar in my coffee," she seethed.

"You're mixing up your blondes again," Rebecca muttered sideways before greeting the young vampire sweetly. "Good morning, Caroline. Sleep well?"

The question had a sarcastic twinge toward the end, causing Caroline to narrowed her eyes at Damon. He clearly did something to Rebecca, something that tainted her. He gestured for her to answer Rebecca's question; Caroline wanted to slap the smirk right off his beautiful face. "I slept perfectly, thank you for asking." With that, she sped into the bathroom with fresh clothes for the day.

"Is there any _particular_ reason as to why you two are barging into my girlfriend's dorm room at the crack of mid-morning?" Caroline heard Stefan's aggravation through the door.

"You hear that, Damon?" Rebecca's whisper was full of delight. "He called her his _girlfriend_! How sweet!"

"Why such a Grumpy Gus?" Damon boomed. Caroline cringed as she shimmied into her light-wash jeans. "I thought you'd want to _celebrate_ today. I finally got Elena tucked away safely. You're snuggle with Caroline ins this… _tragically_ tiny bed," Caroline smiled shyly despite her isolation, "and Ric… Ric saved his lady from the great beyond."

"You look happy, Stef." Rebecca's voice was sweet, a pleasant contrast to Damon's boisterous one. "Caroline really seems good for you. Very much like—"

"Everything is coming up _Salvatore_ ," Damon cut her off. "So much so that I have decided to turn over a new leaf."

"Oh, good." Caroline heard Stefan's complacent reply and nearly giggled all of the toothpaste froth out of her mouth.

"I'm going to be the man that does right by Elena, all on my own, by keeping her in my _heart_ , instead of keeping her _under foot_." Despite the overwhelming urge to roll her eyes at his theatrical declaration, while running a comb through her loose waves, Caroline realized this "new leaf" could very well keep Damon in check for a good duration.

"That's interesting," Stefan's apathetic response matched Rebecca's jaded, "Cute."

"I'm going to need a little help with the dirty work, so rise and shine, Brother." Caroline inspected her reflection once more before exiting the bathroom. "We are going to interrogate a tall, beautiful Heretic with a terrible attitude."

"Valerie?" Everyone turned toward Caroline's exasperated outburst. She didn't mean to sound that way, but the one captor that made her life hell, even after she was free, was hopeless still in love with Stefan.

"Why does that sound so familiar?" Rebecca muttered, her eyes darting between the two Salvatores. Stefan's eyes lowered and his mouth formed a thin line, whereas Damon's eyes wildly searched his brother, flickering up once to check Rebecca's and Caroline's expressions.

"I'm _missing_ something…" Damon concluded under his breath.

"Oh, Stefan and Valerie are old flames from _way_ back," Caroline explained curtly though her tone was light and undramatic as possible. "And they haven't had a face-to-face since she came _tumbling_ out of that prison world.

* * *

 **Mystic Falls 1863**

" _Becca…"_

 _Stefan dodged the streams of people entering and exiting the fairgrounds to catch Rebecca leading a young man in a striped vest into the dimming woods. The sun was just starting to set, and the grounds would shut down once the night fell. Stefan almost recognized the back of the boy's tawny hair, and even as he looked back, his freckled face was familiar. Rebecca glanced back and sighed._

" _Becca, I need to—"_

" _It'll have to wait, Salvatore," she waved a dismissive hand. Stefan frowned, pursuing the two despite the thick crowd._

" _But, Becca, it's kind of import—"_

" _I'm sure it is, honey, but_ this _matter is a little more… pressing." The young man with her chuckled lowly, tugging her into his side and trapped her waist tightly. "No, darling—don't," she scolded immediately._

" _Rebecca,_ please _."_

 _The twenty-one-year-old freed herself from her potential lover's grasp and turned to study Stefan's pleading eyes and anxious stance in the diminishing daylight. The young woman expelled a defeated sigh and rolled her eyes. A cold expression overtook her light features as she regarded the young man at her side._

" _If you want me, you'll have to stay in town another day."_

 _Not waiting for a response, Rebecca let her abrasive statement baffle the young man as she marched over to Stefan. Stefan watched the young man's plunging frown and clenched fists as Rebecca slipped her hand into Stefan's and pulled him over to a bench._

" _Isn't he the guy who travels with the fair every year? The same guy you always—"_

" _That is him, yes," Rebecca interjected impatiently, "and I am sure he is thoroughly irritated that Stefan Salvatore has a higher standing with me than he does." She gave the younger Salvatore a cheeky smile and patted his face patronizingly. "Now… what is so urgent that you had to disrupt my evening plans?"_

" _I…" Stefan's gaze fell away from her glittery one and onto his lap. "I met a girl."_

" _Yes, Charlotte Sutton, I know her," Rebecca jested. Her chuckle, however, faltered at the lines of regret marking Stefan's face. His averted eyes spoke volumes. "Wow, Stefan… a little bold, asking advice from…"_

" _You're right, I'm sorry! It's just… Damon isn't here, and Ezekiel, and I just—Oh, never mind, Becca, I'll just—"_

 _Rebecca's cold hand pressed to his blathering mouth. Stefan finally faced his blonde friend. Damon had once told Stefan that Rebecca had an unnatural way of understanding impossible situations—he had said no human should contain that much grace and acceptance. Damon and Ezekiel being away at war when Stefan fell for a beautiful, charming young woman would constitute as impossible to Stefan. And Rebecca's warm smile encompassed all Damon had said._

" _Tell me about her, Stefan."_

" _I met a girl—Valerie's her name—and she's probably… well, she's probably either your age or maybe been Damon's and…" He glanced up at Rebecca's fixed blank expression. "And she is beautiful, and she is charming, and she is funny… And I really like her, Becca, but I don't know—"_

" _From what I am gathering, Stefan, you want to_ show _her how much you like her." The heat radiating from his face was comparable to the sun. Rebecca giggled, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Listen, Stefan, I can't tell you_ exactly _what to do, or even how to initiate the_ situation _—"_

" _I wish Damon were here."_

 _Rebecca's mouth shut unceremoniously, and her reassuring hand fell away from his arm. Stefan's weak confession hung between the two, despite the final calls from the grounds a few feet away. Laughter and prattling voices passed them but could not penetrate the gloom that had settled on the bench._

" _I wish he was here too," she muttered, "and Ezekiel. Oh, goodness, how I miss those two idiots so much." Stefan almost missed her frail admission; she sniffed but, with the nearly disappeared sun, there was no light to glisten against her tears. "I know, Stefan… I know it is difficult without them, but I also know you're growing up to be an honorable man… and whatever you're feeling toward this Valerie girl must be true if you're asking for advice."_

" _Becca, if you don't—"_

" _Stef, even if those two skirt-chasers were around, I still think it would be best to get your advice from me." Rebecca jutted her chin out arrogantly. "After all, as a woman, I know what women like and dislike."_

" _If, um, this is uncomfort—"_

" _Honey, I_ promise _you, my face won't be_ anywhere _as red as yours will be."_

* * *

"Hang on— _Valerie_?"

Stefan closed his eyes, regretting every brother-to-brother moment he had ever shared with Damon. They always came back and destroyed him. Damon had no filter. Damon was like a child, blurting out whatever came to his mind and not considering the consequences.

"Wait, you mean—"

"As in _V-card_ Valerie?" Damon cut Rebecca off. "Wham, bam, thank you, ma'am, broke your heart, and—"

"The _same_ Valerie I gave you advice about?" Rebecca cut back in. Stefan noted the way Damon's bewildered gaze raked over Rebecca. She turned to the older Salvatore with an arched brow and a smirk. "The poor thing was _so_ lost without you and Ezekiel… I was the _only_ one around to—oh, Damon, you should have _seen_ how _red_ his face—"

"Rebecca," Stefan hissed, rubbing a hand over his face. Rebecca's laughter faltered, and Stefan could only imagine it was because of the ice emitting from his girlfriend behind him.

"You know what? I think this would a _perfect_ opportunity for you two to catch up," Caroline declared as she retrieved her messenger bag from the other side of the room. "Unless… there's a reason it would be _uncomfortable_ for you…?"

" _No_." He wished his drawled reply sounded more confident. Caroline, fortunately, didn't latch onto his uncertainly.

"Great!" his girlfriend chirped. "Have fun," she drawled ominously as she strutted out of the room.

"Oh, wait, Caroline!" The young blonde vampire spun around, her hair fanning out as she raised an impatient brow to Rebecca's outcry. "Um, do you have any, uh…"

"Blood bags," Damon and Stefan intoned simultaneously. They shared a look. They knew Rebecca well. Rebecca ducked her head at their deadpanned tones; Stefan wondered why she was so hesitant.

"Mini fridge. And don't be rude—if it needs to be restocked, do it." With that, Caroline turned on her heel again to leave.

"Thanks, Caroline! Have a great day!" Rebecca called after her kindly. The Salvatores gave her a strange look. "What? I can be genuine _sometimes_. Besides, I like her. She's got _spunk_."

"So, what _exactly_ are we interrogating Valerie for?" Stefan finally asked as he found his pants on the wooden floor and got dressed.

Damon shifted through the mini fridge and pulled three bags of blood. He bit into them, poured them into three mugs—pink, purple, and yellow—and popped them into the microwave. "Why she killed Oscar. What's going on at Casa da Salvatore. Why Mom is such a—"

"And you're _really_ bringing Becca into this mess?"

A wicked smile cut into Rebecca's expression as she inattentively took the mug Damon put into her hands. She arched a brow at Stefan's superficially innocent question. He tried to pose it as protective and courteous.

He had been caught.

"Valerie doesn't like me, does she?"

" _No_ ," Stefan protested too adamantly. "No, she just didn't _know_ you."

"It's been nearly two centuries, Stef," she defied impishly. "She couldn't _possibly_ still be holding a grudge against me."

"What did you _do_?"

Rebecca paused, raising the mug to her mouth. Stefan watched as her gold eyes flooded with red and the veins under them thickened. Stefan wished she had never turned; he would never wish this life on her. Her eyes fluttered shut at the taste, and she hummed her satisfaction.

"I tried to befriend Valerie, like I had to your casual encounters," Rebecca explained to Damon once her fangs sank back into her gums, "but the little _witch_ would not accept my extended friendship. _So_ , I told her—"

"She told Valerie, she taught me everything I knew." The sexual implication was obvious by Stefan's telltale ruddy cheeks.

"Well, I wasn't _lying_." Rebecca choked on a laugh, her mouth red. "I _did_ teach him all he knew, _although_ it was all by verbal instruction and nothing more."

"I don't think I have even been as proud of you as I am right now," Damon muttered in awe. Stefan noticed the madly intrigued look in Damon's eyes. "Unfortunately, this is a _Salvatore_ mission. What I _really_ need is for you to keep an eye on our humans and Care-Bear."

"I am an _honorary_ Salvatore! Why must you always stick me with the babysitting?" Rebecca's protest was nearly a tantrum. Stefan noticed her demeanor changing from temperate to spirited as she drank her mug's contents.

"He doesn't want to expose you yet." Stefan had become an expert at reading his brother's behavior. Rebecca's eyebrows furrowed immediately switching her glare to Damon.

" _You_ are our secret weapon."

"No one knows who you really are," Stefan translated automatically, "and if they do, like our mother, they don't know you're still alive."

Rebecca finished her mug and groaned. This was the Rebecca Sutton the Salvatore brothers knew—the rebellious, unruly young woman who hated staying in one place and who demanded to be part of the action. Her eyes rolled with animosity.

"Fine. But you idiots owe me."

* * *

 **I had a lot of fun writing this chapter— So. Much. Banter. I hope you guys enjoyed it too!**

 **Don't forget to review!**

 **xo,**

 **glass27doll**


	13. Trust

**A/N: Hey guys! Thanks so much for your support! I really hope this means you guys are liking it haha. I'm having a blast writing it!**

 **Just a heads-up, my semester just started, so even though I'm pretty good about being a chapter ahead, if something happens and I can't put out a chapter on Fridays, don't hate me!**

 **Also, as a mentioned, for those asking about Rebecca's backstory, it's coming, don't worry.**

 **Little hint/spoiler: wait until the** ** _party_** **chapter!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own any of the TVD characters/plotlines/dialogue. I only own the Suttons and their storylines.**

* * *

 **Chapter 11**

Trust

"All right, what's going on with you and Rebecca?"

Damon arched a brow without taking his eyes away from the road. If he did, Stefan's stare piercing his immovable face would catch the shimmer of apprehension masked by an apathetic shell. Stefan didn't know about the arrangement Rebecca and Damon had as teens, and no one knew about the promise they made as young adults.

Perhaps Stefan was referring to the confliction Damon felt whenever he was near Rebecca when he should still be pining after and grieving for Elena…? He couldn't be _that_ obvious. Then, again, it was Stefan—his brother for centuries.

"Why don't you trust her?" Stefan pressed. _Oh_. Damon could have breathed a relieved sigh at the clarification, but Stefan's gaze was still fixed.

"What do you mean?" Damon's face contorted with confusion. "I trust her enough to watch Ric, Bonnie, and Caroline."

Stefan scoffed and turned away from his brother. "You _know_ they can handle a situation— _if_ one even rises," Stefan countered. "Why are you so skeptical? What has she done?"

Damon shifted in his seat. "Don't you think it's a little _strange_ that she pops up in our lives _literally_ a day after you mentioned her—by pure _chance_ you had your human diaries?"

"Journals," Stefan corrected naturally, "and stranger things _have_ happened to us, Damon. Did you forget we are _vampires_?"

The older Salvatore drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. "Isn't it a bit suspicious that she's come back to Mystic Falls every decade to visit our graves, and we haven't seen her _once_?"

"Well, if you do the math, that only about fifteen times, in which we weren't always in Virginia, and we also had a lot on our plates, dealing with witches, hybrids, Originals… Need I remind you of the little fun fact that _we are_ _vampires_?"

"Okay, sure, go ahead. _Trust_ her." Damon's shoulders bounced up, and he gestured toward Stefan. "Go right ahead, Brother, but when we find out her true motives, don't say I didn't tell you so."

"Her real motives?" Stefan echoed. "You are unbelievable, Damon. You blindly believed Katherine for years, about the tomb, _just_ because she said she would."

"Beck doesn't even remember who turned her," Damon implored. "You _do_ remember how, once you turn into a vampire, every memory you had ever lost comes back, don't you? Tell me that's not a _teensy_ bit concerning."

Stefan closed his mouth and turned back to the forestry racing past them. Damon was pushing a hundred miles per hour, to get from Whitmore to the edge of Mystic Falls. Matt had mentioned someone stole his deputy truck and told Damon they were heading out of town.

"Fine, it's a little weird." Damon glanced over to catch the end of Stefan's dramatic eye-roll. He knew how difficult it was for his brother to admit he was right. "And I know you don't trust anyone, but this is Becca." Damon pursed his lips when Stefan glanced over. "For all of our human lives, Rebecca and her siblings were our family. More than Lily, and _definitely_ more than Giuseppe."

"I didn't say anything because I am waiting," Damon finally muttered. "I _want_ to trust her, but you know how well that usually goes."

"Yeah." Stefan clapped a hand on Damon's shoulder and squeezed it empathetically. Thankfully, the younger brother didn't press the issue further. "So, what's the plan?"

As an answer, Damon jammed the brakes and jerked the wheel to the side. The tires squealed, and Stefan gripped the door and dashboard of the car while Damon held onto the wheel. The car came to an angle stop, pitching their bodies to the side; Stefan slammed against the door and Damon into Stefan's shoulder. Stefan groaned, glaring at his brother, but Damon just gave his infamous smirk.

"I'll be the bait, and you get to be our element of surprise," Damon explained, exiting the car at the same time as Stefan. "She'll think I'm all alone and try something witchy, and then, _bam_ , you show up and sweep her off her feet."

Stefan rolled his eyes and walked up the road before veering into the woods. Damon sighed, combing his hair back with his fingers. He leaned against his car and checked his cell phone. One update from Matt—the stolen vehicle is almost at the border of Mystic Falls—and another message from Rebecca.

 _ **Following your gal pals is boring.**_

Damon smirked and replied:

 _ **I know Ric can be a bit much, but it's only for the day.**_

Before Rebecca could reply, a large vehicle screeched to a lurching stop. He tossed the phone onto the driver's seat and crossed his arms with a knowing smile. "No seat belt?" Valerie rolled her eyes, reaching to lean out the window. "That's a hefty fine, young lady."

"How did you—"

"A little bird brain said you stole his car and sped out of Mystic Falls." The tall Heretic stepped out of the car with a scold dragging on her hollow face. "You _did_ realize that by taking a deputy's SUV, that every move you made would be tracked, right?"

"Would you kindly move your car?"

The dark blonde shifted her weight and clenched her jaw. She seemed like she was in a rush, which would explain why she was booking it out of town. Damon could play on her edginess for the answers he needed. He feigned confusion as he theatrically turned to look back at his blue Camaro.

"That car?" He turned back with a forced smile. "You _bet_ I'll move that car, but first…" All pleasantries fell from his face, "I need to ask you why you killed your faux brother Oscar and framed _me_ for the murder." He even punctuated the demand with another grim smile.

Valerie raised her arms a little, exasperatedly glancing around. "I have _no_ idea what you're talking about." The worry drawn into her face, however, told him a different story.

"You're right," Damon admitted, stepping closer to her. "I might not be _one hundred_ percent on my detective work. It's _possible_ that another Heretic turned him into a desiccated corpse. I'm not sure." Gesturing backward, he added, "So, I'm gonna go to my car, get my phone… I'm gonna call Lily, see if _she_ knows."

As Damon retreated to his small car, he heard Valerie's aggravated exhale. " _Fine_." Suddenly, he was choking, falling to his knees. Now would be a perfect time for Stefan to reveal himself. "You're a _genius_ ," Valerie seethed. "What on Earth made you think I wouldn't do the same to you?"

Valerie's hand was extended into a fist as Damon turned and managed to plead, "Hey, we're just talking here."

"Valerie."

The magical chokehold disappeared as the Heretic turned to see Stefan standing behind her. Damon noticed his brother's defensively stance. Whatever assurances Stefan gave Caroline didn't seem to be holding up.

"Stefan."

Heretic holding on to a former spark _confirmed_.

"Quit torturing my brother, and tell me _exactly_ what's going on here."

* * *

Hoping the vampires in her dorm room would hear, Bonnie took a deep breath before she opened the door with a cautious gaze. Luckily, it was just Caroline sitting on her bed, fully dressed, surrounded by an array of colorful notecards stacked on her comforter, multi-colored binders, her cell phone, and a day planner. The young woman was the epitome of organized. Her wide blue gaze fell on Bonnie after a moment, and she pulled the one earbud out of her ear.

"Is it safe to enter or is your boyfriend still half-naked under the sheets?" Bonnie teased while trying to keep a straight face.

Caroline's face pinched as she groaned. "God! I am a roommate _horror_ story."

"Please," Bonnie scoffed, shutting the door behind her. "At least your bed has _seen_ a half-naked male all semester." She rolled her eyes at her own misfortune and set her bag down on the desk. She spotted her childhood teddy bear. "I think Ms. Cuddles feels sorry for me—I mean, look at her! Do you see how she's _judging_ me?" She picked up the stuffed animal in an attempt to alleviate her best friend's guilt. Conjuring a silly voice, " 'I need man help'."

Bonnie joined Caroline's pure giggles. With a dismissive wave, Caroline caught her breath, "Well, don't look at me for advice. I just sent my boyfriend to spend the day with his first love."

Jade eyes widened with recognition—Caroline had filled Bonnie in on everything, as always. "Valerie?" she prompted incredulously. "The Heretic who turned your skin into _vervain_ , so you and Stefan couldn't touch?"

"Yeah, that would be the one," came Caroline's sardonic chirp. Bonnie, still hugging Ms. Cuddles, sat on the edge of Caroline's bed, careful not to disrupt the probably strategically placed study tools.

"Wow." Bonnie's eyebrows rose as she searched her friend's expression. "You're either completely insane or the most secure woman in the world."

Caroline's eyebrows bounced as she tucked some hair behind her ear. "I want him to work things out with her. He has this habit of bottling up all his hurt feelings, and I think it would be really good for them if they could just…" Caroline took in a deep breath. "…clearly away all the nineteenth-century drama, so they can get on their lives. Clean slate."

As teenagers, Caroline's insecurity would have clung onto Stefan, and eventually, either suffocate him or drive him away. Now, she may not have been completely confident in herself or in her relationship, but she still wanted the best for Stefan. Bonnie curved her lips into a proud smile.

"Most secure woman it is. I am officially inspired."

As the girls shared a giggle, their door opened suddenly. The childhood friends immediately turned with deadpanned faces toward Rebecca, who snapped on a piece of gum while smiling absentmindedly at her cell phone. When she finally looked up, their expectant stares greeted her.

"Oh, I didn't mean to interrupt a moment," she apologized. She eyed Ms. Cuddles, regarding it with a fleeting, " _Cute_. Damon just asked how things are going, and I said fine, but then he said—"

"Damon told you to watch us?" Though she waited for an answer, scrutinizing Rebecca through a thinned gaze, Bonnie _knew_ Damon would do something as stupid as that. The honey blonde recovered from the abrupt and pointed question and shrugged.

"He did," Rebecca started, "but from what Stefan has told me, I know you've been through a lot and clearly have survived it all."

"And what exactly did he tell you?" Caroline weighed in, similarly narrowed eyes. Rebecca sighed, running her fingers through her hair.

"The same information I gathered from the day I've spent with each of you—you are both able of taking care of yourselves." Rebecca raised a threatening brow, but Bonnie could see it wasn't meant for either of the girls. "Those men think we're all damsels in distress, _always_ needs saving, _always_ needing watching—but for God's sake, you're a _witch_ , and you're a _vampire_!" Unsure of why she was getting so worked up, Bonnie and Caroline watched the woman tersely. "I won't treat you two like children just because I was told to. You are both lovely and everything, but I can see you're both capable of holding your own."

Her jaw squared. Her eyes blazed. Her fists clenched. The issue seemed to weigh on her good graces. Bonnie had seen glimpses of the same expression flash on Damon's face whenever someone misjudged him or those he cared for.

"Wow," Caroline finally mumbled.

Rebecca shifted her weight to the other hip. "I'm sorry," she sighed. "I just hate being kept out of whatever shenanigans they're up to. It's just like when we were kids."

"What did Damon say again?" Bonnie prompted.

Rebecca's face lit up with a laugh. "He said 'pics or it's not real', so if you don't _mind_ …"

Without permission, Rebecca raised her phone to snap a picture and ducked her head to send it right away. Bonnie rolled her eyes, knowing her newest best friend _would_ say something irritatingly juvenile and glanced at the smile lingering on Caroline's face. Bonnie shrugged, communicating with her childhood friend silently. She got up; set Ms. Cuddles on the desk, and switched her wallet from her schoolbag to her purse.

"So, you're going out to meet a guy?" Caroline teased as Bonnie shouldered her bag. Bonnie turned with a wry smile, noting Rebecca's attention on her as well.

"No, I'm going to Mystic Falls to discuss magic with a Heretic I just brought back to life," Bonnie corrected with false enthusiasm. Pausing with her hand on the doorknob, she pondered, " _Then_ , maybe I'll go meet a guy."

"You should text her when you get there," Rebecca suggested, her attention back onto her phone. Answered with silence, she looked up at Bonnie's green glower. "You know, so you don't feel the need to keep _me_ in the loop, but we'd all still know you're safe."

"I can handle whatever those Heretics—"

"Oh, no, honey, not them." Rebecca waved a hand as if she was swatting away Bonnie's statement. "Men, darling. They can be real creeps."

Bonnie and Caroline inclined their heads to one another, sharing a similar knowing look. Bonnie winked at her best friend and waved at Rebecca briskly before walking out of the dorm room. As she started into the main hall, she pulled her cell phone from her pocket and noticed a text message notification. It was from Stefan to her, Caroline, and Damon.

 _ **Damon is iffy about Rebecca. Be careful.  
**_

* * *

"So, do you need any help studying or…?"

Before she could respond, Caroline's cell phone chirped and lit up on her bed. A small smile crawled onto her face from the sender… and, then faded as she read Stefan's warning about Rebecca's fraudulence. Remembering the vampire in question was still in the room, Caroline scrunched her eyes shut and rushed, "Um, no! I don't need any help— _thank_ you, though."

"Listen, Caroline, I know you and Bonnie don't fully trust me." Rebecca avoided Caroline's shocked eyes as the older vampire sunk onto Bonnie's bed. "And I get it—I'm new to you guys, and the boys can't exactly _vouch_ for me, considering they didn't even know I was _alive_ until a few days ago…" Caroline watched the other blonde's eyes widen as she stared at the gnarled floors. "I can see you girls trying to like me, and maybe you're started to—I don't know—but I also know _Damon._ The damned boy can't trust anyone, so I know he'll try to protect you from me."

Caroline had to squint her eyes to hide her automatic reaction to Rebecca's accuracy. Rebecca paused and brought her gaze to meet Caroline's. The woman seemed genuine, and Caroline had already started to get used to her humor and caring streak— _but_ Damon usually didn't care enough to voice his distrust.

"Rebecca, y—"

"Becca," she interrupted. Caroline tilted her head. That was what Stefan called her. "You can call me Becca, please."

"Okay, _Becca_ ," Caroline restarted with a heavy sigh. "You have to understand that nearly everyone from Damon and Stefan's pasts have been bad news, for them and for all of us. No matter how nice you are now, you'll still have to prove yourself."

"Well, I stayed to babysit, didn't I?" The spewed question gave away her true sentiments. She quickly covered it with a wry smile and, "But I am also giving you space. I meant what I said before—you two are strong enough to protect yourselves. I know how annoying it is to be watched all the time… I was born in the nineteenth century, after all."

Caroline tried to offer a kind smile, but Rebecca pursed her lips. Caroline's shoulders drooped as she looked at her notecards. "I have a test to make up in an hour, so…"

"Sure." Rebecca adjusted the purse strap across her chest and stood. "Listen, when you're all done with class, we should go shopping."

"Why?"

"Well, I didn't think I'd be staying this long, and I—"

"No, no." Caroline shook her head. "I mean, why do you want to go shopping… with me?" Caroline's brows furrowed as she searched Rebecca's twisted features. Was she going to cry?

"You remind me of…" The corners of her mouth quirked feebly. "You remind me of my little sister. You're what I think she'd be like if I had been around to see her grow up…" With a sniffle, Rebecca laughed. "But if that's too much pressure for you, I was going to invite Bonnie to come along anyway. I like you guys, and I don't usually mesh well with other females."

After a moment, Caroline forced a smile onto her face. If Damon felt strongly enough to speak up and Stefan actually _believed_ his brother, Rebecca could easily be bad news. Yet, how could she say no and make Rebecca feel the absence of her little sister all over again?

"We'll go shopping. I should be done with class by three o'clock."

* * *

"Okay, I think I got it."

Stefan had made the executive decision, that if they wanted to get wherever Valerie was leading them in one piece, he would have to drive—and considering how protective Damon was of his "Baby", the Camaro, they would have to use Matt's deputy SUV. Though he'd rather be driving a smaller, less noticeable vehicle, Stefan considered flipping the siren on, to end his time with his annoying brother and his evil ex quickly.

Being uncharacteristically gentleman-like, Damon sat in the back while Valerie spent most of her time glued to the passenger's door, staring adamantly out the window. She vaguely explained their mother's former boyfriend, Julian, but the way her voice shook lead Stefan to believe there was more to her simple reasons to destroy him.

"You killed Oscar because he knew how to get to Julian," Damon summarized, leaning forward between Valerie and Stefan, "but you _hate_ Julian because he's a sadistic, depraved, no-good monster that Lily _desperately_ wants to bring home."

Sounded familiar. Stefan sighed. He really couldn't take Damon anywhere. His brother was a child trapped in a man's body.

"Did you ever heard of the Black sea massacre of 1897?" Valerie managed to tear her gaze away from the rapidly passing scenery. Stefan couldn't help but to catch a glimpse of her face. It was stone. Damon frowned, indicating he hadn't. "Julian annihilated an entire coastline on Christmas day." Her voice took a dramatically dark turn as she added, "And yet, Lily is still hopelessly in love with him."

"So?" Stefan rolled his eyes by how unimpressed Damon sounded. "Stefan took out an entire village in Monterrey, and Caroline still wants him. To each, his own." Stefan covertly peered at Valerie's reaction to the flippantly delivered information, but she glanced at him simultaneously. Awkwardly, their gazes parted. Whether he noticed, Damon didn't acknowledge it as he switched gears. "Speaking of which, how did you two, uh, meet?"

Before his brother could rope Valerie into another painful conversation, Stefan quickly obliged, "At the town fair."

"Oh right," Damon muttered. His feigned faulty memory dug into Stefan's skin. "And then, you were supposed to meet _after_ that, right? Like, under a bridge or a tree or romantic park bench…?"

"Will you please just shut up?" Stefan nearly growled. He was over what had happened, but Damon had a way of drawing the worst out of him. If he wasn't driving, Damon's neck would have been snapped the moment he started talking.

"You know," Damon leaned closer to Valerie as if he cared whether Stefan heard, "when you didn't show, this guy wrote _ten_ pages in his journal, about how the 'sun would never shine as bright' and the 'food would never taste as sweet'." Addressing Stefan, he confessed, " _Yes_ , I read them—your hiding places were always crap." Turning back to Valerie, he disclosed in a low mutter, "You really crushed the guy."

"Well, she was just spying for Lily," Stefan injected coldly. Valerie's jaw clenched as she glared at her former lover. "I mean, it was all just a game, wasn't it?"

With a sharp inhale, Damon muttered, "Ouch," and patted his brother's chest as he retreated from Stefan's hostile burn.

"But, yeah, no, hey—Hey, keeping going, man," Stefan urged his brother with two centuries' worth of bitterness and rage. His knuckles whitened as he gripped the steering wheel. "This bit is, uh, absolutely _hilarious_."

"No, please, stop." Valerie eventual plea caused Stefan's fixed jaw to loosen as he pursed his lips. "The only thing that matters now is that we find Julian, to make sure he can't come home. So, if you're not in, spare me the car ride and let me out."

"No, Stefan's in." Damon leaned forward again, staring at the stretch of road before them. Stefan knew his brother. Sincerity coated his words. "He's in." With his usual facetious tone, he added, "I'll watch."

Stefan sighed, wishing he could ease Valerie's terse glare with a decent explanation for his brother's irritatingly difficult behavior. When he found none, he just said, "He's… turning over a new leaf."

* * *

Returning to the sofa with a bottle of wine, Alaric plopped down next to his revived wife. His brows came together as Jo's gaze fixed on the blank television as she shoveled the second bowl of rice into her mouth. She hadn't been joking when she said she was starving—rightfully so, considering she had nothing in her stomach for four long months.

"Is that art or something?" she inquired, pointing at the blank screen.

Uncertainty held up the corners of Alaric's mouth as he searched for just a spark of jest in Jo's blue stare. There was nothing. Her face was blank. How deep did this amnesia go? In the beginning of the summer, as he frantically scoured every available resource for a way to bring her back, he had also read about the natural side effects. The scientific articles only had speculation, but, without oxygen, the brain begins to degrade—it occurs in people who died for only a few minutes.

Her memory loss shouldn't have surprised him, based on the biological research—did the laws of science still apply if they used magic?

"No, actually, it's a TV." He'd be patient. He'd be devoted.

"That's a TV," she repeated, setting down her food. "I'm Jo. You're Alaric, but you go by 'Ric' because… it's an odd name?" Alaric chuckled a little at her hesitation. She added with a sweeter tone, "And, we're married."

"Let's not worry about the details right now," he soothed, resting a hand over hers. She glanced down but didn't panic like she had earlier. Progress. "It's going to take a little time for your memories to come back." He hoped. Maybe if he said it enough times, the world would actually be as pinkly hued as his rose-tinted glasses made it seem.

"This is amazing," Jo gushed, gesturing to the open containers and her bowl on the coffee table. "Did you make it?"

Alaric chuckled, "No, it's delivery." Confronted by yet another vacant stare, he explained, "Made somewhere else and then someone drives it over? It's Thai food, your favorite." She eyed the table before jabbing her fork into a piece of chicken. "Well, except for that," he interjected, "That's meat… you don't eat meat."

"Why wouldn't I eat meat?" Worry and confusion melded into her expression.

"I have no idea," Alaric admitted with a weak laugh. Jo smiled, popping the food into her mouth and hummed her approval of the sweet sauce coating it.

The endeared smile on Alaric's face fell as his front door opened. He turned to a tall blonde woman, her poised phone, and the sound of her camera shutter. Rebecca smirked as she tapped the screen of her phone rapidly. When she raised her gaze, her eyes were round.

"Oh my gosh, you're Jo!" The young-looking woman beamed and parked herself abruptly between Alaric and Jo on the sofa. Jo squirmed under the heavy scrutiny Rebecca laid on her. "Wow, you are _so_ gorgeous. Is Alaric smothering you? I don't know him that well, but he certainly seems like the type."

"No, he, uh…"

"Jo, this is Rebecca, Damon's—" Alaric pursed his lips, realizing where a problem may arise, so he amended his introduction. "This is Rebecca, a friend of _my_ best friend, Damon."

" _You_ may call me Becca," the vampire offered to Jo gently. Her emphasis was clearly employed to exclude Alaric. It seemed that their conversation that morning hadn't lost its sting. "I'm moving out today, but if you need _anything_ , I'm just a call away. You have Damon's number, right? Trust me, I know how _boring_ husbands can get." She winked at Jo, who smiled slowly. Maybe it would be good for Jo to make a friend post-death, someone she wouldn't have to feel guilty about forgetting.

"She and Damon were staying here for a little," Alaric explained hastily. When her memories came back, he knew she'd question another woman living in their apartment. "Their house was, uh… under construction." The supernatural details of their lives would be more difficult to explain than the apology for a lie. "So, um, Becca—"

"Rebecca," she corrected him with frost. Her back was still toward him as she spoke. She didn't even turn her head.

"Has Damon figure out where he's staying or…?"

"Probably with Stefan, at the Lockwood mansion," she replied. She turned, revealing her surly profile. "Don't worry, though, I'll be out of your hair in no time. I just came by to check on you, by request of said Salvatore, and to get my things." She turned back to Jo and gripped her hand affectionately. Alaric noticed Jo's trust. "I know you didn't know me before you died, but I'm glad you're back. Maybe this guy will be less of a dick since you're around."

She promptly stood and proceeded into the guest room. Despite his irritation with her existence, Alaric appreciated her regard toward his wife. She treated Jo like an old friend, so royally and so kindly. He heard her shuffling around in the bedroom when he sighed, smiling at his wife once more.

"Hey, let's open this bottle of wine," his suggestion full of fervor, "it's got to be five in the afternoon somewhere, right?" He struggled with the cork, but as it popped free, his other hand propelled onto the bare lip of the bottle. He felt the skin tear before it burned and the hot liquid surged out of it. He inhaled sharply through his gritted teeth, gripping his stinging hand tightly.

Jo took his hand into her own. Carefully, she inspected the wound. His bright gaze fell on her. "It's nothing serious," she assured him eyeing the gnash. "Do you have bandages? I'll wrap it for you."

"Medicine cabinet, above the sink."

As she left to retrieve the supplies, his eyes followed her. Was she remembering her medical background? Were the memories going to fall back into place once she unlocked a handful of crucial ones? He smiled; hope launching him ahead of himself.

Alaric caught sight of Rebecca, peeking out from the doorway of the guest room. For a glimpse, he saw her true form as her red eyes greedily gawked at his hand. When he cradled his hand to his chest carefully, her face returned to normal and she disappeared back into the room.

Less than a minute later, he heard her shoes march against the wooden floors. "I'm gone. Tell that zombie wife of yours I said goodbye."

* * *

The moment she left her professor's office, Caroline checked her silenced cell phone. Stefan had called her only a few minutes ago, as she turned in her makeup exam. She tucked an earbud, waiting for the call to connect.

"One makeup exam down—two more to go," she announced before he say hello. With the same breath he would have greeted her, he laughed. "Remind me never to be taken hostage at the beginning of the semester ever again."

She pressed through the rush of students leaving their classrooms to get to her next makeup exam. People were ruthless and relentless. Someone's shoulder collided with hers as he or she jetted past her. Caroline groaned, but another female voice protested for her.

"Watch it, moron!" In the corner of her eye, there was a flare of honey blonde as her defender turned to Caroline. Rebecca grinned at her, gently nudging her with her elbow. "Hey there," she chirped.

"Hi…" Caroline's confused greeting caught Stefan's attention again.

"Is that Becca?"

"Sure is," Rebecca replied for herself, leaning close to Caroline. She smelled like Christmas. "How's it going, Stef?"

Caroline rolled her eyes and pulled away from Rebecca's proximity. "Where are you?" she finally inquired.

"Some gas station in the middle of nowhere."

Suddenly, a fourth person joined the conversation. "Don't worry, Care-Bear," Damon projected. "I have issued a 'No Hanky-Panky' zone. No former flames will reignite on my watch. Uh-uh, no how."

Rebecca covered her giggling mouth as Caroline tried to suppress an amused smile. Stefan, however, immediately apologized. "Sorry about that. The fumes are, uh, getting to his brain."

"Tell him to tell Damon that I said hi," Rebecca whispered. Caroline allowed the amused smile to break through as she swatted Rebecca away jokily.

Distantly, Caroline heard Stefan say, "Rebecca says hi." Rebecca beamed childishly, and Caroline rolled her eyes again. "Hey, listen," Stefan addressed his girlfriend, "I want to take you to dinner tonight."

Caroline tossed an embarrassed glance at Rebecca, but an excited smile had already spread across the other blonde's face. Rebecca confused Caroline—she didn't know anything about the Salvatores' current friends but still urgently desired to be part of them.

"Like a date?" Caroline clarified. With sudden realization, she frowned. "Wait, is this because you're feeling guilty for spending the day with your ex?"

"No, it's because I realized I haven't actually taken you out yet."

"Well, I'd love that." Caroline tried to hide her blushing face from Rebecca's entertained gaze. "To be honest, I am feeling a bit guilty for pushing you into a car with your brother and your ex, whom you _clearly_ want nothing to do with."

"Subtle," Rebecca commented perceptively. Caroline shot her a silencing look, and Rebecca raised her hands in defense.

"Ah, no, no… don't feel guilty. I… I needed a push," Stefan confessed reluctantly. Caroline's eyes narrowed.

"Why?" She suddenly stopped in the middle of the busy hall. "What, did she make a _move_ on you?" The two girls shared a disgusted look.

"Nothing happened," Stefan reassured her. He sounded amused by her jealousy. "I just… needed to hear that our time together was a lie."

Rebecca's sharp inhale deterred Caroline's low inquiry, "She admitted that?"

"Well, she didn't deny it."

"Poor Stef," Rebecca's murmur had a maternal tint. Caroline shared a similar glance with her while trying to figure out what to say.

"Are you…okay, or whatever?" Less eloquent than she was hoping…

"I will be once you tell me what time I'm picking you up tonight."

"Smooth," Rebecca smirked, and Caroline didn't even try to hide her girlish smile.

"Eight," Caroline answered. Rebecca snapped in front of her wistful blue eyes and mouthed the 'flowers' urgently. "And I like daisies, by the way," she rushed. Rebecca grinned proudly, but Caroline felt the need to explain. "Just in case, you, uh, wanted to give me flowers…"

Stefan chuckled. "I'll see you tonight."

As they hung up, Caroline looked at Rebecca with a deadpanned look. "Flowers?" she demanded as she continued to her next class.

"I know Stefan. He would have bought you a bouquet anyways." Rebecca's pace matched Caroline's easily. "Might as well be ones you like!"

"Well… thanks, I guess." Eyeing the older vampire curiously, "What are you doing here anyways?"

"Checkin' on you." Rebecca shrugged. "I'm bored. I don't know anyone else on campus—besides that dreadful Alaric—so…" She pursed her lips at Caroline's interest. "You have another test now?"

"In…" Caroline checked her watch with a sharp breath. "…less than thirty seconds. I have to—"

"I know. Go ace that test, and then call me. We have a reason to shop now."

* * *

Before Damon had left, he told Rebecca to pack her bags, they were returning to Mystic Falls that evening. She didn't know if she could even wait the whole day. On the other hand, she knew it probably would not bode well if she showed up to the quarantined town without the Salvatore brothers. Despite her animosity toward her "protective detail" job, it provided a distraction.

As she stuffed clothes into her two bags, back at Alaric's apartment, she hummed an upbeat tune. The Sutton house was demolished, but the garden behind their house had been incorporated into a children's park. That's where she'd visit first. Stefan had explained that the boarding house—the _Salvatore_ boarding house, he informed her; she had never known it belonged to their family—was overrun by the Heretic vermin, so they were staying at the Lockwood mansion. She wasn't surprised that was one of the remaining houses after all these years.

The rip of human flesh, accompanied by a distressed hiss, caused her delight to catch in her throat. She turned to the sound and stared as if she could see through the wall. Then, the savory smell of the blood flooded her mind. The longer Alaric complained, the thicker the scent became, blanketing the entire apartment. She peered out of the room and saw Alaric clutching his hand; her sight was crimson as Jo left the room. It was only by the strings of her humanity that Alaric wasn't dead.

When his pained glance spotted her, she slipped back into the room. She felt something dribbling down her chin—saliva. She was an animal. She wiped the drool away with the back of her hand and patted the skin under her eyes. The protruding veins hurt from the pressure, but it usually caused them to retreat under the surface of her unblemished face.

Using her enhanced speed, she packed her things and bolted.

The old blood bag that morning barely curbed the voracious desire to drink the injured man dry. Old blood is sweeter than fresh blood—having a blood bag was like settling for eating cookies when craving potato chips.

Rebecca sprinted to the girls' dorm room and left her bags by the third, unoccupied bed. She had deduced it had been Elena's, so she didn't destroy it like her emotions would have driven her to. Again, by the mere fibers of her humanity.

As she surveyed the neat room, probably by the hand of Caroline's obsessive streak, she heard the simple chirp of her cell phone.

 _ **Save me from the angst.**_

Damon started texting her the minute he wiggled his fingers at her and towed his brother away. It started with a smirking emoji—naturally—and progressed into status reports of the witch, the vampire, and the hunter. The current message on her screen was oddly… vulnerable for their conversation. She didn't know if he was feeling guilty for leaving her to, again, keep an eye on his friends, but she was glad he was keeping her virtual company.

 _ **Stefan, Valerie, or both?**_

She waited a few minutes before tucking the phone in her back pocket and left the room. She decided to use her natural ability to hunt in order to find Caroline. She caught the young vampire as she flounced out of a professor's office. Listening to her conversation with Stefan made her oddly warm inside. For a long time, Rebecca was convinced Charlotte and Stefan were soulmates—even when Peter swept her little sister away—but Caroline was like a reincarnation of Charlotte.

When she departed from the vampire student, Rebecca checked her phone again.

 _ **Both. They are more catty than a litter.**_

With a smirk, she replied, _**Should I sound the Caroline alarm?**_ Despite his tendency to be a jerk, douchebag extraordinaire, she knew the man's heart. He could barely see another female when he was with someone, and he viewed other relationships the same way.

Without a valid reason to be around those put into her charge, Rebecca felt abnormally lonely. She spent more of her vampire life alone, so the absence of a companion wasn't foreign. Yet, she sat in a courtyard, staring at couples holding hands, friends playfully teasing one another, even acquaintances discussing academic theory—she _felt_ green.

She looked down at her phone on her lap.

 _ **Not yet.**_

She quickly tapped back, _**So, how's the middle of nowhere?**_

The blonde had earned a few wistful glances as she lounged on the bench by herself. She had earbuds in her ears, but she wasn't listening to anything. She had her legs folded as she leaned on her thighs and toyed with her phone. She was trying to blend in, but she was craving human interaction. Her phone chimed again.

 _ **Heated with these sultry looks from the 60 y/o lady at the gas station.**_

 _ **Just your type,**_ she typed back, smirking to herself. She leaned back and watched people pass. A girl tossed her red hair over her shoulder as she flirted with the boy slowing his strides to match her short pace. An older woman balancing on yellow heels dragged a suitcase behind her while holding a labored conversation on her phone.

 _ **What's up?**_

Rebecca grinned at Damon's abandonment of their previous conversation, but the smile didn't stay very long as she deliberated her next message. She could lie, saying everything was wonderful, but something nagged her. If she wanted him to trust her, to gain acceptance into his life again, she'd have to open herself more than just physically. _**Waiting for Caroline to get out of class.**_ She paused, her thumbs hovering over the keypad. _**Everyone is busy, kind of bored.**_ The admission was less clingy than admitting she was lonely. Immediately, his response popped up on the screen, and Rebecca's eyes drank in the words.

 _ **Why don't you do what you came to do?**_

Rebecca frowned and automatically answered, _**Won't go to Mystic Falls without you.**_ Now _that_ was clingy. She shot another text, _**don't want to run into Mama Salvatore**_ with an emoji sticking his tongue out.

A few minutes passed, so she took it as a sign she scared him away. She inhaled deeply. She had to do something until three o'clock, and waiting for Damon Salvatore to text her back was not it.

Her phone chimed.

 _ **Wise. I can go with you to the cemetery, later.**_

Another chime.

 _ **If you want.**_

She smiled at the gesture, tucking some hair behind her ear. _**Sounds generous of you.**_ After she hit send, she decided to change the topic. _**So, Stef and Care have a date tonight**_.

Across the wide walkway, a young man faltered by one of the benches, absorbed in the world of his phone. He was tall, with a broad yet defined structure. Probably an athlete. His clothes were fitted, a pigmented green t-shirt and plain blue jeans. He was also handsome. He looked outraged, his thumbs treading across his phone's screen with vehemence. She heard his heart picking up its pace, like an increasing march.

He was _healthy_.

Rebecca swallowed, hoping her instincts didn't give her away and looked down at her phone.

 _ **I heard. She reminds you of Lottie, doesn't she**_

A sullen smile dragged across her face as she typed, _**Am I so obvious lol**_. The acronym was bleak, but, to Damon, it would be a mask. Immediately, he responded.

 _ **You think you've changed so much, but you're still my bff.**_

He added the same emoji she had sent earlier. Much like him to throw her words back at her when it suited him. Another message pushed the conversation up.

 _ **She's just like our little Sutton.**_

At least, they were on the same page. Rebecca glanced up at the young man again. She knew he hadn't left because his deafening heartbeat was still thumping in the background. She could almost hear his blood coursing. Rebecca typed a quick reply, _**So what will you do when your brother is away?**_

She tucked her phone in her pocket and walked up to the young man. He looked up, a scowl weighing his face down, but his expression pinched at the blonde stranger.

"I don't mean to bother you," Rebecca started apologetically, "but I could help to notice you…" She tucked some hair behind her ear, ducked her head bashfully. The art of deception got her this far. "Are you okay?"

"My roommate just screwed something up," he admitted offhandedly. "But, uh, thanks for asking… I'm Dylan."

"Sue," Rebecca simpered. She sat next to him and stared into his brown eyes. "Let's go somewhere private." As her compulsion worked, whatever sparked in his eyes was immediately snuffed.

Rebecca didn't need human interaction.

She just needed a human.

* * *

Damon smirked at Rebecca's last text message.

At first, his messages were strictly updates about Bonnie, Caroline, and Alaric. Because he was bored, he demanded she sent proof that she was keeping an eye on his friends. Her immediate reaction was to oblige.

Her first picture was of the two girls: in their dorm room, Bonnie and Caroline sat on Caroline's bed, which was covered by bright-colored papers. Caroline's smile was wide as she posed for the photo, not even an eyelash out of place, but Bonnie's sharp glare pierced the lens, a deep scowl chiseled into her already strident features. Rebecca's caption was _**girl power**_. The second picture was undoubtedly spontaneous, as Alaric and Jo—who looked perfectly healthy and alive—sat in Alaric's small apartment, with take-out containers littering the coffee table. Alaric's eyes were half-lidded, clearly unamused, but Jo's frosty colored eyes were rounded and wide. Rebecca's follow-up message read _**she lives!**_

Damon even responded with candid pictures of Stefan's furrowed brow and Valerie's perennial frown. It would have ended there, but the younger Salvatore took every opportunity to dissect the past, and the Heretic filled every silence with a self-pitying argument. Eventually, Damon had to reach out for help.

His fingers waggled over the screen before he typed, _**Kissing a bourbon glass. Join me.**_ He smirked at his witty reply. He would proudly classify himself as an avid texter. He looked up from his phone to see Valerie's dragging expression.

"Fill this up." She set the red container she just bought at his feet. He glanced back at her with a raised brow.

"There's more gas in the tank, sassy pants," he jabbed, leaning against the car while he waited for the gas to stop.

"I need an accelerant to burn Julian's body. Don't want to take any chances."

"Aren't you getting a little ahead of yourself? We haven't even killed the guy yet." He assumed his patronizing smile was what made Valerie narrowed her eyes with disgust.

"Are you really that daft? We don't need to _kill_ him." As if it were obvious. Damon raised a brow, noting his brother returning with a similarly confused expression.

"What are you going to do? Charm him to death?" Damon chuckled, putting the nozzle back onto the pump. Valerie didn't have a charming bone in her body—Damon wondered what exactly caught his brother's attention, considering Stefan was less superficial than that.

"Julian's dead." Damon stared down at Valerie's matter-of-fact statement. Her face was set into its usual scowl. "He's been dead since 1903."

The older Salvatore studied the woman before passing his confused attention to Stefan. Valerie turned to see the younger brother standing behind her, but his face was blank as he searched her for the lie. Damon sighed exasperatedly.

"All right, you're going to have to explain this _all_ over again."

* * *

 **This chapter is pretty long... let me know if that's something you want more of, or if I should keep the chapters shorter like the first couple ones...**

 **I tried to incorporate texting into this chapter because I can totally imagine Damon being one of** _ **those**_ **guys ;) Let me know if you thought it was confusing or if it didn't work for you—I'll nix it next time.**

 **I hope you enjoyed!**

 **Don't forget to review/critique/suggest!** **I** ** _love_** **getting hearing your thoughts!**

 **xo,**

 **glass27doll**


	14. The Phoenix Stone

**A/N: Hi everyone, here's the next update!**

 **Just want to say I am truly honored by all the support—favorites, follows, and reviews alike. I grin like an idiot every time I get an e-mail notification from ff, so thanks for all the fuzzy feelings.**

 **Hint/Spoiler: 2-3 chapters until the party chapter!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own any of the TVD characters/plotlines/dialogue. I only own the Suttons and their storylines.**

* * *

 **Chapter 12**

The Phoenix Stone

Mystic Falls was devastating.

Though she had been there recently, the neglect and desolation had spread so rapidly, it looked like months had passed since she crouched on a vacant porch, palms hovering over Matt's still heart, as she waited for Damon and Stefan to rescue Caroline. Driving through her beloved hometown, Matt's words resonated in her mind. The streets used to be full with familiar faces—adults who were a little too nosy and children who were a little too energetic—but now, everything was barren.

Bonnie had tasted the same emptiness Matt spoke of, when she was in the prison world. For a brief time, she had Damon, and even Kai was a physical being she could hurl insults at—but when she was truly by herself… She could relate to Matt's feelings as he drove the deserted streets of their once home.

The chill of abandonment seeped into her heart as she parked in the Salvatore driveway. The boarding house was the only source of life in the entire town—which caused an ironic smirk to stretch across her streaked face. After all, it housed the dead.

Without niceties, Bonnie wiped her face and marched into the residence, determined to find Oscar, the one Heretic who could provide answers. What _is_ the Phoenix Stone? What kind of magic binds to it? How much time did she have before everything she knew came crumbling down… again?

"I'm afraid this house no longer has an open-door policy to the local riffraff."

The sassy accented voice behind her did not deter the search. Enzo, though a _very_ old vampire with a history of enduring torture, was practically harmless. Bonnie knew of his dark streak that could overtake him at any moment, but, again, he was only a vampire. She had bigger threats at hand—like siphoners feeding off their own vampirism to conduct their magic abilities.

" _You're_ living here, aren't you?" Bonnie pitched over her shoulder flippantly.

"Shall we spend a few minutes catching up before I throw you out?" Enzo inquired casually.

Bonnie peered around a corner for the revived witch-vampire before finally landing her gaze on the source of the arrogance emitting in the foyer. Leaning against a wall, Enzo surveyed her just the same. He was dressed like Damon, leather jacket and all.

"How was your summer holiday? Meet any charming Euro-hunks?" Turning up empty on one side of the first floor, the witch passed Enzo to the other. "Girl, _please_ don't tell me you didn't just follow Damon around with spare bottles of bourbon."

"I didn't," Bonnie replied brightly, "but it's sweet of you to be concerned about my love life!" Without stopping, she walked backward just to throw a tight-lipped smile at the British vampire eyeing her curiously.

"Well, I do admire your nerve, sticking around." Bonnie peered out the window, to the vast backyard. No Oscar. "Now, myself—I'd be flat hunting on the other side of the _planet_ if I were the only thing standing between _Damon Salvatore_ and his everlasting happiness with Elena."

Bonnie returned to the main room, standing with her back to the warmth of fireplace; if he tried anything, she could channel the fire's power to attack. Enzo pushed himself off the wall to advance toward her, gaze like a cat. Bonnie had picked up a completely empty blood bag, noting the several others lying around. Oscar _had_ been there… but where did he wander off?

"Maybe the danger gives you a thrill. Could be a case of _puppy_ love."

Her eyes narrowed at the juvenile term tossed out by Enzo. "See, now, I think you're _projecting_ ," she countered. " _You're_ the one sleeping at Lily Salvatore's feet, hoping for some of her good table scraps."

Enzo's smile was more like a grimace as he gripped Bonnie's arm roughly and began to drag her out. "Good talk. Nice of you to stop by."

Bonnie struggled against his abnormally steady clasp on her upper arm. She knew he could have snapped her bones, but his grip only bruised her. "No, stop… I need to talk to Oscar!" Enzo released her, sending her body stumbling backward as he stepped in front of her again. She noted the curiosity, as he tilted his head predatorily.

"What about?"

"Witch business." Her quickly supplied yet extremely vague answer interested him further as he towered in front of her. She could tell he was itching to compel here though it would fall on impervious eyes. She scrunched her face dramatically. " _Super_ boring."

"Well, I am afraid Oscar isn't feeling quite like himself today, so… maybe another time."

Bonnie felt like a ragdoll as the vampire seized her shoulders and spun her to the front door. As he led her out, she tried to think of another convincing argument to change his mind, but her thoughts split at the sound of a bloodcurdling scream. The young woman watched Enzo's face drop with recognition as he muttered something and raced to the staircase; he hadn't used his enhanced speed as if he knew she'd follow him. Maybe he needed her, as backup. The vampire stopped in the doorway she recognized as Stefan's, and she peered over his shoulder.

She felt her face contort with repulsion. Oscar's growling face was buried into a paling woman's neck, blood dripping down her blue and white maid outfit. Enzo sped to tear the feeding vampire from the petite woman—Bonnie could literally hear the release of air between the wound in the woman's neck and Oscar's pressurized mouth—and she ran to stabilize the maid before she crashed onto wooden floors.

"A little blood please?" Bonnie demanded, unable to keep the woman standing for much longer. Enzo ripped his glare away from the panting Heretic to pierce his wrist with a fang and pool his blood into the maid's mouth. As Enzo took the swaying woman's shoulder, Bonnie backed away to study Oscar's carnivorous gaze.

"Clean yourself up and take a spa day," Bonnie heard during her pointed staring contest, "Forget all about Mister 'Chompers' and his very bad manners."

"Hello, Oscar." Bonnie's words were slow and cautious, and she tried to appear less like food and more like a friend. Her eyes barely flitted to the woman leaving the room. "Hey, do you remember me? We met in Myrtle Beach."

"I've never been to Myrtle Beach, but I do remember you from that dark room in the basement." The tension in his shoulders, his dark and empty stare, and even his voice sounded different from when Bonnie had first met him. "You're the one who got me out?"

Bonnie's expression pinched. "Out of where?" Suddenly, Oscar's eyes snapped to Enzo behind her. She could tell her response was not the right one by the quick flash of red in and around the Heretic's eyes.

"I think I'm still hungry."

"Uh, okay…" Bonnie interjected, holding out her hands like she could prevent him from attacking. "Just get a grip on yourself for five more minutes, and we'll get you more blood. I came to ask you about the Phoenix Stone."

"What stone?" His question came out in a growl. Throwing a dark look back at Enzo, he demanded, "Why do people keep asking me questions I _don't_ know the answers to?!"

Tired of skirting the issue, Bonnie pulled the red stone from her jacket pocket. She held it out in front of Oscar with a set expression. "This stone. Know it?"

Oscar took a step back. Bonnie witnessed something different overtake his expression. She watched with unhindered curiosity as he lowered his head and tried to avoid looking at the stone; at the same time, he couldn't help fixating on it. Then, she realized.

He was scared.

"There," he snapped, switching his gaze between Enzo and Bonnie. "You got me out of there."

* * *

"Why would Oscar stash Julian's body out here, in the middle of nowhere, when he could just hand it over to Lily?"

Valerie had led the group to a very abandoned building in, seemingly, the most insignificant place in all of the United States. Damon was the first to get out of the car, groaning with relief and complaining about his "old man bones". He disappeared around the corner of the building for a few seconds before trying to get inside of it.

"Because he knew, the moment Lily gets Julian back, the fun's _over_." Valerie slammed her door at the same time Stefan did, and they both ventured to the front of the vehicle. He watched as she critically regarded the nearly abandoned structure. "Everything changes."

"Hmmm, so you _killed_ him." Stefan gave Valerie a dry smile. "That makes a lot of sense."

"I told you," Valerie repeated with little stress, "I have my reasons."

As she had answered their many attempts to even _try_ to understand her motive to kill Julian, they hadn't received a straight answer. Whatever her reason, Stefan figured it must be significant enough to hold a grudge and destroy the corpse. He barely heard the older Salvatore slam into the locked metal door.

"You know, I was thinking—it was probably a good thing that you and I cut things short." Stefan strolled up to her, an attempt to intimidate her. She stared straight into his face. "I mean, what if I'd accidentally insulted your driving, and you had no choice but to run a butcher's knife through me?"

A scowl formed on Valerie's mouth at his sarcasm. "Yeah, it doesn't exactly sound like you've lived the life of a saint either. Surprise!" Her voice brightened for only a moment before she continued bleakly, "The world changes people. You must have figured _that_ out by now."

"Hey, lovebirds." Tearing away from the heated argument, both vampires reluctantly turned to Damon's call. He pulled the lock free from the door. "Quit your bickering. Let's get this campfire started." The door squealed as he opened it, and Stefan left Valerie to follow his brother.

The building was pitch-black, even for Stefan's perfect vision. However, the rest of his senses dissected the room's contents. There wasn't a single human heartbeat in the entire building. The largest creature in the room was a mouse, and beside that were the bugs. The room smelled both moldy and dusty. Stefan heard a switch flip and the hum of electricity reaching each light fixture. Row by row, the light illuminated the warehouse full of shelves—all containing coffins.

"Huh. Casket emporium. _Clever_."

Oppositely, Valerie was less impressed than Damon was. "Oscar and his _stupid_ pranks," she grumbled. Without delay, she began to lift lids and check the contents of each coffin.

"So, Lily's still carrying a torch for some moldy, old corpse, hmm?"

Strolling through the walls of the wooden boxes, Damon didn't lift a finger to aid the search. Stefan started from the top shelf. It was high enough for him to tiptoe, checking the inside. Nothing.

"Lily is determined to reunite Julian's body with his lost soul," came the offhanded explanation. "But, in order to do that, she needs the Phoenix Stone." The Heretic stopped to deliver a cold stare.

"Phoenix Stone, huh? Never heard of it." Stefan noticed his brother's forced smile and immediately avoided eye contact with Valerie's intent gaze. Coffins creaked as he continued lifting their covers while Damon and Valerie bickered.

"Really?" Valerie's voice climbed an octave or two. Stefan's eyebrows raised; he knew that tone. "That's funny since you _clearly_ used it on Oscar."

"Who said we used it on Oscar?"

"Oscar was dead, and you needed _something_ to trade for your girlfriend-in-the-box, so you tinkered around with it and found a temporary solution—but, hey." Her eyes reduced to slits as she patronized, "Good on you." She turned back to the search. She carelessly muttered, "Whoever you brought back seemed to pull the wool over _Lily's_ eyes."

Stefan held the lid of another empty coffin open as Damon shared a confused look with him. "Wait, what do you mean 'whoever' we brought back?"

Damon threw a dark look at his younger brother for revealing too much, but Stefan shot a pointed look back. If they didn't really bring back Oscar, they didn't really bring back Jo—being caught wasn't nearly as bad as the consequences to follow Valerie's implications.

Valerie sighed and shut a casket. "The Phoenix Stone is stuffed full of very old vampire souls." Stefan's eyebrows hunched together. "You didn't raise Oscar from the dead, you _clods_. You jammed one of _those_ souls into his _body_."

* * *

Valerie's words hung in the air for a long moment. The two men stared at Valerie, searching for a morsel of hope in her extremely dangerous revelation. Unlike Stefan, Damon had no patience and mentally declared there was no optimism to glean from the situation. Damon was a man of action, so that was what he leaped toward.

He snarled and left. Why couldn't that annoying, pity-driven woman have said all of that in the car instead of her drivel of woe-is-me and I-have-my-reasons? Damon punched in the third number programmed into his speed dial and waited as he exited the building.

After two rings, Bonnie greeted brightly, "Hey."

"Hey." Damon fought the relieved sigh.

"How's the road trip?"

"You know how I feel about road trips, Bennett."

"True. Interestingly, you know how I feel about being watched like a child," Bonnie lobbed back calmly. Damon kind of liked the scary tranquility Bonnie had when she was being threatening.

"Well, sometimes, I like to have a little reassurance. You know I'd be lost without you." He heard her scoff though he could imagine the small smile playing on her pursed lips. It made him smile. "So, how's everything with Professor Frankenstein and his rebooted bride?" he inquired cautiously.

"Good," Bonnie chirped simply. A moment of hesitation passed before she added, "I think. She was still asleep when I left."

"Well, Beck sent me a picture, and she looks alive and kicking."

"Why'd you ask if your little spy is feeding you info?"

"I'm not the CIA, Bonnie. More like double-o-seven—I basically work by myself." Bonnie scoffed again, and Damon smirked, "Bon, you have to admit I look great in a suit. And my impressions—"

"Damon, I'm kind of busy," Bonnie managed to say through her laughter, "and I know you need something, so spill."

"Just a quick favor," he defended though he scratched his chin. Lying to Bonnie had begun to make him itch—he wondered if she cast a spell on him to catch him being dishonest. "I'm gonna need you to tell Ric that we made a… _tiny_ mistake and that _that's_ not his wife."

"What?"

Before he lost his nerve, he continued, "Yeah, it turns out the stone doesn't _actually_ have any magic juice to bring back _any_ old corpse. It's more like a… supernatural holding cell for a bunch of lost vampire souls—one of which you accidentally shoved into Jo's body."

He tried to sound as casual as he possibly could. This, however, was not a flippant matter. He knew the pain Alaric would feel once the hope of his future with his beautiful wife was ripped from him… again. Damon, himself, had encountered the feeling several times with Elena.

"Oh, my god." Bonnie's breathing began frantically. "That means Oscar's—"

"Not Oscar." Damon shook his head, and then realized Bonnie couldn't see the gesture. "Just some random vampire in a Heretic candy shell."

"Damon…" He frowned at the familiar tone. Bonnie hardly ever employed it, but years of being a vampire would make the nuances blur into one. She was afraid. "I came to your house to talk to him about the stone."

"Bad idea!" Damon all but hissed. His immediate thought was to steal the deputy vehicle, abandon his brother and his ex, and go protect his witch. "Cut the conversation short. Call Ric from the car on the way home."

"Oh, _no_." All fear dissipated as Bonnie caught the small detail he tried to sneak in. "Don't put this on _me_."

"Well, I'm sorry, but I'm trying to do this thing where I do right by Elena." Though he believed in his new view on life, he didn't think Bonnie would buy it. "And I just... I—I just don't think that she'd want me to crush his spirit like that. Let him down gently?"

"Is this you doing the right by Elena or you not wanting to break your best friend's heart?" Her accusation was vehement, and Damon had to bit the inside of his cheek. He didn't say this new way of life wouldn't have its benefits. He heard her cross sigh. " _Fine_. But you owe me."

"Thanks, Bon-Bon," the vampire replied genuinely. She didn't reply, and the line went dead.

Damon glanced around the isolated area, trying to gather his thoughts into one coherent stream. What the hell was Alaric thinking, using the Phoenix Stone—something he had no idea about—to do something he didn't even know it could _potentially_ do? Why couldn't he find another witch to do the damn spell. Why did Bonnie always have to risk herself?

His mind reeled. He wasn't even there to protect Bonnie! His skin crawled, thinking about her life being in danger— _again_ —because of an old vampire bottled inside a Heretic's body. He had put Rebecca to watch her, but—wait.

Where the _hell_ was Rebecca?

Damon shot the vampire a text message before storming back into the emporium.

* * *

"Is that Damon again?" Rebecca looked away from the one-lined question Damon had sent her. Caroline's fists planted on her hips, with a misplaced frown on her usually bright face. "I thought you wanted to hang out with me, to _bond_. That means no _boys_."

"You're right." Rebecca dismissed the text and tucked her phone away. "Damon asked why I didn't go with Bonnie, to Mystic Falls." The teenager vampire's expression quickly morphed into concern.

"Is she in danger?"

"Even if she _is_ , I'm confident she is capable of dealing with it." Rebecca pushed hangers across the clothing rack between them as she surveyed each piece of clothing indifferently. She actually hated shopping. "Does it get cold around here?"

"Are you planning to still be here when it should?" Rebecca's gaze snapped up to meet quizzical blue eyes. She arched a brow, and Caroline averted her eyes. "I'm still deciding whether I can trust you," she admitted casually as she slid hangers across the rack, pausing to inspect a few. "I just wanted to know my deadline."

"You have enough time to come to a conclusion," Rebecca sneered.

The two plunged into a heated silence. She felt Caroline's eyes on her as she pulled a muted green sweater from the assortment. At the scoff, Rebecca raised her eyes apathetically. Caroline heaved a defeated sigh and rolled her eyes.

"You only wear boy's clothes, don't you?" Another heavy sigh fell between them at Rebecca's flat expression. "How about we pick outfits for each other. You don't have to buy them, just try them on."

"Fine." Rebecca placed the sweater back on the rack and flipped through the blouses again. "So, how are you doing with catching up?"

Caroline raised a brow at her choice of subject matter, but an amused smile broke through. "I just have a paper to write and a few shorter assignments… I should be done by the end of the week." She pulled a plain pink t-shirt and draped it over her arm. "How was _your_ day?"

Rebecca kept her eyes fixed on the clothing, afraid Caroline would somehow read her bluff. "It was standard. Lots of people-watching." And she nearly drained a young man of his life. Had it not been for the alarm she set for three o'clock, to meet Caroline, she would have certainly killed the student.

"Is that what you end up doing after a while?" Rebecca glanced at the girl, her cool gaze still cast on the clothing but her eyebrows pinched together with distaste. "Is that what I have to look forward to in my future?"

"Well, firstly, you have Stefan," Rebecca countered. Caroline's head ducked, causing Rebecca to smirk at the predictable reaction. "Secondly, no matter how long you're around, you'll never be able to catch up and do everything life has to offer." Caroline looked at Rebecca's unsmiling face briefly. "When you're around for a while, you'll _want_ something constant. Why do you think Damon reverts to sex and bourbon every chance he gets?" Caroline's eyes were round at the blunt question. "Or even something mundane, like Stefan's diary."

"Journal," Caroline muttered. She pulled an embellished yellow blouse and stacked it on top of the pink one. Rebecca cringed. "What's your constant, then?"

"I take a walk every day." She paused, thinking about her own little notebook in her purse, but she decided against sharing that. She inspected a black t-shirt with a breast pocket before keeping it. "When we were kids, Stef, Damon, and I would sneak out every night and take walks. I guess I just never learned how to sleep at night."

"Speaking of which," Caroline tilted her head with an arched brow, "What was it like, growing up with the _Salvatore_ brothers?"

"Actually, I'm sure you already know," Rebecca mused. A smirk stretched across her face as Caroline frowned. "Damon does whatever he wants; Stefan tries to fix things until he gets fed up and gives up. And whenever they're good on terms, they're a force to be reckoned with… ringing any bells?"

Caroline grinned and nodded as she walked around to the pants' rack behind Rebecca. "What size are you in pants?" she inquired idly.

"Probably your size," Rebecca replied. She picked up four more shirts, all plain and slightly androgynous. "I have to admit, it was tough being friends with _both_ of them, because Stefan was young and wanted to be nothing like Damon… and well, you know Damon."

The other blonde laughed behind her. "I would imagine it was hard to pick up guys with either one of them as a friend." Rebecca threw a look over her shoulder, seeing Caroline's innocent face. "Bonnie _may_ have shared some details about you from your little road trip…"

Rebecca rolled her eyes and shook her head. "It wasn't difficult, at all. Damon had already made a name for himself. Besides, my brother made sure there were no rumors going around about me, like that…"

"Brother? You have more siblings?"

"Five, actually," Rebecca replied automatically. She smiled to herself as she stood next to Caroline, looking through the pants to match her tops. "Two older sisters, an older brother—Damon's best friend, Ezekiel—a younger brother, and a little sister."

"Which one do I remind you of…?"

"The little one," Rebecca replied with a warm smile. "And I guess you're like Julia, the second oldest because Charlotte aspired to be just like her."

"So, your brother…?"

"Ezekiel."

"Ezekiel was okay with you and Damon being so close?" Side glancing at Caroline knowingly, Rebecca waited until the young woman blushed furiously under the scrutiny. "I mean, I would think big brothers usually don't like when their sisters date their best—"

"Damon and I never dated," Rebecca interjected. She continued to browse while the other girl watched her, probably rewiring her notions of Rebecca.

After a moment, she heard Caroline return to her own shopping, and an interested, " _Hmm_." Rebecca stopped and glanced heavenward.

"What?"

"Nothing," Caroline chirped. Rebecca glanced over, seeing the blonde staring intently between two pairs of jeans. One was bleached and cuffed, the other was ripped at the knees, patched with lace.

"Caroline!" Rebecca hissed. Caroline finally looked at Rebecca's narrowed eyes as she—thankfully—put the cuffed pants back onto the rack. "Why did you do that?"

"You emphasized you didn't _date_ ," Caroline finally pointed out. She walked toward the fitting rooms, with Rebecca close behind.

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did."

"Well, we didn't," Rebecca confirmed. Caroline shot her a look. "What, I don't get it."

"I've seen the way you look at him, Becca," she stated, waiting for the fitting room assistant to hand her the card with her number of items. "And you guys are close. Even if you didn't date, you two were up to something."

"What, do you think I'm in love with him or something?" Rebecca scoffed. Caroline, however, did not budge from whatever position she was holding. Rebecca nearly snapped her own number card.

"I _think_ you and him had something, and I think it makes things awkward between you guys now because you thought you'd never see each other again, and the whole Damon-loves-Elena-forever thing…"

As they walked into the fitting room, Caroline's voice echoed a little. Rebecca seized the young woman's arm, her nails piercing the skin easily as she glared into her round blue eyes. The darkness that overtook Rebecca's eyes made Caroline's eyes brighten. Rebecca almost crushed her arm.

"Whatever you _think_ you know—forget it."

"Tell me the whole story, and I won't go theorizing to Stefan." Rebecca narrowed her eyes at the confidence in the young woman's voice.

"Even _if_ you tell Stefan and he _believed_ you, it was years ago. He probably knew already, anyways."

"Then why keep it from him now?" Caroline shot back but cringed as Rebecca's fingers dug deeper into her skin. "Becca… you want me to trust you? Tell me the story of 'Rebecca and Damon'."

The older vampire released the whimpering girl and ran her fingers through her hair, avoiding Caroline's curiosity. "Listen… he and I weren't… _in love_ or anything." She sighed. "Caroline, whatever I'm about to tell you—you better not breathe a word of it, because no matter how much Stefan cares about you, I _will_ feed you your own heart."

* * *

 **Mystic Falls 1856**

 _Balancing on her toes, Rebecca leaned on the dark-haired teen and whispered into his ear, "Ezekiel said no more midnight adventures."_

 _Damon's arm, previously reached back to chuck a stone at Ezekiel and Samuel's window, fell. He turned his head to the blonde fourteen-year-old in his clothes with narrowed eyes._

" _Then why have_ you _come?"_

 _An impish smile pulled at Rebecca's lips before she jogged away from the yellow house. As she tossed a look back at the older boy, she startled by the sudden clasp on her upper arm. She swung around, wide eyes settling on his grip before she met Damon's eyes._

" _Stefan isn't coming either, Becca," he informed her. She tilted her head; his grave eyes searched her curious expression._

" _Are_ we _not friends, Damon?"_

 _He released her at the playful inquiry and crossed his arms. Rebecca pursed her lips, wondering why he was so unyielding. "Why have you come if Ezekiel told you otherwise? What was his reason?"_

" _What importance does it have to you?" Rebecca countered, mimicking his folded arms and jutted chin. "Ezekiel is not my father—I am old enough to make my choices!"_

" _Becca, you are still young." Damon turned back to the Sutton house and raked his fingers through his hair as his dark brows came together. "What if tonight is the night we are caught?"_

" _I didn't know Damon Salvatore was a coward." Rebecca widened her eyes innocently as Damon's eyes scanned her suspiciously._

" _I am not a_ coward _. I am merely looking out for_ you _and_ your _reputation."_

 _Rebecca scoffed, rolled her eyes, and placed her hands on her hips. "I've endured enough punishment, what is a bit more?" Damon frowned, and Rebecca's eyes rolled once more. "Whether day or night, I am always the condemned—if I am to get in trouble, I wish it be for good reason." Tucking her hands in her trouser pockets, the girl began to journey to the lake, their usual destination. She pitched over her shoulder, "Are you coming Salvatore, or are you a pansy?"_

 _She heard a weighty sigh and felt his familiar arm fall onto her shoulders casually. Her eyes darted to the side, and a cheeky smile tugged her lips. Damon rolled his eyes, hugging her into his side, but she kept her hands in her pockets. Whenever she wore trousers, its pockets always fascinated her._

" _Ezekiel would kill me if he knew I had you alone, out here…"_

" _Don't mention him," Rebecca grumbled. "He said we must stop because it is inappropriate for a young_ lady _, such as_ myself _, to be out at ungodly hours."_

" _He isn't wrong." Rebecca turned sharply to the older boy, but his grin dissipated her anger. "Alone with_ me _, nonetheless. What talk would stir in the schoolyard amongst the girls—if only they knew!"_

" _They wouldn't believe me." Rebecca's whisper earned a serious glance from Damon, but she avoided his gaze. She rested her head against his shoulder and watched their feet march forward. Their steps matched for she was nearly as tall as he was._

 _Rebecca had always been told—she was not as gifted as Abigail was, not as dainty as Julia was. She was more like Ezekiel, with a smart mouth and a course humor. She had rather been in trousers than dresses; she had an affinity for running outside rather than playing pretending indoors. The other girls in the schoolyard picked at the dirt on her dress or tugged her usually windblown hair._

" _It isn't hard to believe." She felt his shoulder rise and fall against hers. "Other than you are my best friend's little sister."_

" _They say I am not a woman," came her low confession. "They say no man will want me. Clearly, this is untrue, as I am the only one of them who has a boyfriend."_

 _Damon stopped and held Rebecca out at arm's length. At first, Rebecca blinked rapidly as she tried to discern his blank face. Then, a smirk lifted the corner of his mouth, to which a smile adorned hers._

" _Rebecca Sutton has a boyfriend—even before Abby or Julie? Interesting…" He seized her shoulders again and veered off the road, to the tree nearest to the lake. The lake glittered by the moonlight, and the tall grass tickled her arms as she sat next to him. "Who is he?"_

" _Thomas."_

" _Oh, I know of him. He has an older brother, my age, correct?" Rebecca nodded. Damon joined her, thoughtfully watching her for a moment. "Is he nice to you?"_

" _He is just like Stefan," Rebecca admitted. Her slight frown did not go unnoticed by the older boy. He raised a questioning brow, and a defeated sigh escaped her. "He may be a bit too nice… He is constantly afraid I will stop liking him."_

" _That is normal," Damon tried to assure her, but she shook her head. Her face contorted as she tried to clarify._

" _He thinks… He thinks that I like older boys because I stand with you and Zeke before class." Damon laughed, combing his fingers through his hair. Rebecca bit back a smile and looked down at her hands in her lap. "It's not_ funny _. In fact, it is rather irritating!"_

" _He is lucky to have you, Becca." His changed tone caused her to look up; his eyes trained on her blushing face. A sudden smirk overtook his sincerity. "So, have you two kissed yet?"_

 _The girl knew he was teasing her, that he was trying to get a rise out of her, but she smiled back wickedly. "Well, I would not call him my boyfriend had we not kissed." She paused and gasped, "Oh, promise you won't tell Ezekiel! He would surely hurt Thomas!"_

 _Damon chuckled, still regarding her curiously. "I wouldn't."_

 _Rebecca released a heavy sigh; she had never thought she'd be having such a conversation with Damon before. He might as well have been like a brother to her, having been there since she was born, but he was also… different. Girls in the yard openly swooned over his "beautiful eyes" and his "handsome smile". Whether she believed their words, she still caught herself sometimes peering at him through such a lens._

" _Honestly, I don't think we are kissing correctly," she blurted. Damon's eyebrows rose with amusement, but he didn't say anything. "Well, I wouldn't not what is proper and what is not! Thomas is the only one I have ever kissed before!"_

" _Well, how'd you do it?"_

 _Rebecca frowned, thinking of the handful of times her mouth mushed against Thomas's. It was messy. Sometimes, it was uncomfortable. She would open her mouth to convey these descriptions, but then she would shut it again. This happened several times over the course of a few minutes._

 _She missed Damon's dramatic eye roll, but she could not ignore the sudden kiss pressed against her lips. Rebecca's round eyes watched Damon pull away. Other than amusement, he seemed unaffected._

" _Was it like that?"_

" _At first," she muttered, avoiding his eyes. "But that is simple. That is how Mama kisses Lottie. It is the open-mouth kissing that…" Her eyes rose, only to settle on his mouth for a moment. "Shall I show you?"_

 _Gold met cerulean for only a minute, but Rebecca's heart slammed against her chest. At no time had Rebecca ever considered kissing Damon, but she knew several girls Julia's age that had. Summing together their compliments and the sensation of his lips against hers, she concluded he would, potentially, be the best teacher on the subject._

" _Be my guest."_

 _Rebecca leaned forward with closed eyes—she couldn't bear looking at him—and held his shoulder to keep herself from falling onto him as she pressed her lips onto his. Opening her mouth, Damon followed her lead. The kiss was wet and haphazard, like her kisses with her boyfriend. She idly wondered if Damon understood what her first kiss was like but it plagued her, as her eyes snapped open again, that he might think she was unrefined and inexperienced. She nearly ripped away from him._

 _All of her thoughts disappeared as he took a hooked finger to lift her chin and tilted her head more. Their slanting mouths were better aligned, and Damon's tongue took over the kiss expertly. An unintentional sigh escaped her, and he hummed against her mouth—a sign, she knew, of his amusement—but she ignored it as her eyelids fell again. He rubbed her arm soothingly as if he knew her stomach was churning, and his kiss pressed onto her with more precision and grace._

 _Finally, he pulled away._

" _That is the proper way, Beck." She felt his breath against her face before she opened her eyes. He was already sitting up straight and staring at the lake. "Did you want to go for a swim?"_

 _How could he do that? Perhaps practice could detach the overwhelming feelings from coherence. Rebecca gulped and nodded. "We could, yes."_

* * *

Bonnie hung up on Damon, so irritated by his childish tendency to run away from any responsibility that was remotely emotional, and she wiggled her fingers at her side. Her mind was already intently piecing together excuses and a plan to get out of the danger zone—that she didn't notice Enzo returning.

"Found Oscar a few blood bags stashed in the study." Bonnie's body was on high alert, but, luckily, she didn't startle at his sudden reappearance. "Probably expired," Enzo continued, not noticing her spooked expression, "but he doesn't seem picky."

"I have to head back to Whitmore," Bonnie declared immediately and with a terse smile, she tried to sidestep the vampire. He easily caught her arm, swinging her body back toward him.

"I meant to ask you about this pretty stone." His words were leisurely, and every cell in her body was trying to escape the boarding house. His eyes glinted. "Where'd you find it?"

"Rocks R Us." Bonnie's snippy remark caused Enzo's eyes to narrow. "It was on sale."

"That's funny," he replied, gripping her wrist. The circulation to her fingers was slowly diminishing as the Stone felt heavy in her slipping grasp. "Lily's been looking for one _just_ like it."

"Oh, the 'bargain bin' was full of them," Bonnie continued the charade, "I'm sure they have more."

"Or I could just take this one."

"Don't think so."

Bonnie fought to get her arm out of his clasping fingers, but her departure ceased when Oscar returned and stared between the witch and the vampire. The both stared at Oscar's deadpanned stare.

"I'm _not_ going back in there." He stormed into the room, immediately aiming for Bonnie's jugular, but she disarmed him with a simple chant. He flew back with a thud. She felt Enzo's admiration for only a moment before Oscar declared, "I'm not going back!" He tried to make another advance, but Enzo, using his vampiric speed, slammed the Heretic down into the wooden flooring. He could barely keep the pinned vampire from wriggling around, considering Oscar had drank enough blood to fuel a small vampire army.

"What the hell is he talking about?!"

"Let's just say you were right," Bonnie allowed, "Oscar's not himself today."

"Why does everyone keep calling me Oscar!" The vampire rolled over to his knees, finding his footing again. "My name is not Oscar!" The lights in the room burst and Bonnie shuddered, subconsciously standing closer to Enzo. "Did I do that…?" Oscar swiped his hand through the air experimentally, and the light fixture with the blown bulb crashed to the ground. Bonnie flinched.

"Run," the witch advised lowly before bolting out of the room.

* * *

"You want to get some fresh air?"

Alaric began unpacking all of Jo's belongings, eager to continue their married journey. He had given her a few boxes to peruse, to jog her memory of the past. While going through some albums, she had mentioned she was cold, so Alaric disappeared into the bedroom, looking for the box with her winter clothes.

"Maybe a walk through campus will stir something," he offered. He picked up her favorite sweatshirt, hailing Whitmore, and smiled. It'd be perfect. At her silence, Alaric turned and noted the glint of metal residing in Jo's delicate hands.

He had put out the wrong box.

Trying not to alarm her, he walked into the room as calmly as he could, eyeing her fascination with the weapon. He quickly moved onto the sofa and gently took the gun out of her trembling hands. "What are you doing?"

"What happened to me?" his wife whispered. Her voice quivered. Recognition scrunched her eyebrows as she lifted her bloodied wedding dress; Alaric allowed it only to see her reaction. "This was mine, wasn't it?" she murmured.

"That's your wedding dress…" Alaric's reply was just as quiet as hers was. "The hospital asked me if I wanted to save it."

"What _happened_ to me?" She was desperate. Her wide, blue gaze fell on him, and Alaric looked heavenward—for strength, for wisdom, for clarity…? He had stopped looking for divine intervention the moment Kai plunged a knife into his pregnant wife.

He had to tell her. She deserved as much.

Maybe it was the key memory to open the floodgates of her old life.

The man sighed. "Your brother had a lifelong vendetta against you. He stabbed you. I couldn't get you to the hospital in time."

"So what _happened_?" Jo prompted, searching Alaric's set expression.

"I'm going to explain it to you when you're feeling better," Alaric tried. He didn't think he could repeat the story in one piece. So, he coated his fear with a white lie as he put the gun back into the box and picked up the lid. "It's going to make a lot more sense then—"

"Why wouldn't it make sense now?" Jo demanded, pushing his attempt to reclose the box away.

"Because, it is _crazy_ , Jo." Alaric pleaded, in his mind, that she would just drop it. "It is the _craziest_ thing either of us has _ever_ been through, and _that's_ saying something."

Jo looked at the blood on her laced dress and said, "I remember… I remember I was stabbed." Alaric stared intently. He almost expected her to turn to him and cry that she remembered everything. Instead, she continued, "I was stabbed in the heart."

"No, no, no, not in the heart," Alaric sighed. "He came at you from behind and I—I didn't see him until it was too late—"

" _No_ , I was stabbed in the _heart_ ," Jo insisted. Her brow creased, as she seemed to be piecing her thoughts together.

"Jo, calm down, I—" The woman began to hyperventilate, and Alaric was beginning to panic. He had a fleeting thought, that if he had just stayed a vampire, he could have compelled her. "Everything is going to be fine—" Without thinking, he just placed a hand on her back, but she shot up and away from him.

"No!" She had somehow swiped the gun and held it at arm's length at Alaric with wild eyes. Alaric stood as well, knowing he could easily take the gun from her. Why he didn't… he didn't know. "Don't touch me! Stay away from me!"

Her eyes were round. Her hands were shaking. Her finger wasn't even on the trigger, but Alaric still put his hands up to show his defeat. She fought tears, Alaric could tell, but he didn't say or do anything else, afraid he'd just upset her further. Finally, she backed away and left.

Alaric fell back onto the couch and hung his head, covered his face. For the first time, since he had begun his search to bring his wife back to life, Alaric wept.

* * *

The caskets were heavy and old, creaking each time Stefan opened one and find it empty. He heard light heels against the concrete, knowing Valerie was storming her way through these shelves as well. Damon had disappeared elsewhere; Stefan wasn't even sure he was helping the search.

"You know, we got Nora to siphon that repulsion spell you put on Caroline," Stefan announced as Valerie slammed another casket cover down. "Just in case you were wondering."

"Oh, I have forgotten all about that," she replied airily.

"Why'd you do it?" Their eyes met briefly before she averted her attention back to the search. "I mean, you couldn't have been worried about Caroline's safety."

"What do you want me to say? Because I'm pure evil?" Valerie faltered briefly to give Stefan a sharp look. "Because I like seeing people suffer?"

"Well, if that's the truth, then yeah."

"I'm not a horrible person."

Stefan had heard the slight waver of her voice, but her statement broke the dam of anger he had been trying to conceal, in order to be civil.

"Really?" he demanded. "Well, then, _who_ are you? I mean, you turned my life upside down. You leave, you show _no_ remorse, and then you go after my girlfriend."

"You know _nothing_ about me," she implored. The two stood, eyeing each other for weakness before Valerie rolled her eyes and resumed the hunt. Stefan sighed and kept looking. Faintly, he heard Damon's frustrated grunt as another lid smacked shut.

Switching from the upper shelf, Stefan took a chance with the bottom caskets. He lifted one, which led to a dead end, but the second one would not budge. He tried again, using all his strength, but he could barely find a hold on the lip of the lid.

"This one won't open."

Valerie stopped and studied Stefan. He wanted to return to Whitmore, take his beautiful girlfriend on a romantic real date—why would he possibly lie about finding the one thing needed to end the quest? She walked over and tried for herself.

"Must be spelled shut."

Probably hearing the conversation, Damon returned, sharing a look with his younger brother. Valerie placed a hand over the casket; her skin barely touched it as a glow emitted from beneath it. Stefan frowned as the humming stopped, and the Heretic retracted her hand. With little effort, she opened the coffin.

Inside was a man, arms crossed over his belly like any corpse in a coffin. He had some wrinkles, looking old enough to be Lily's peer, but young enough to be a brother to the Salvatore boys. His dated clothing was stained with blood, directly over the heart.

"Doesn't look dead to me."

"His body's been preserved with magic," Valerie explained loftily. Stefan noted the abhorrence as she stares at the dead vampire. She spat on him, her face contorted like she couldn't get a bad taste out.

"A lot better looking than our old man," Damon commented to Stefan. "I'll give Mom that." Stefan rolled his eyes at his brother's frivolity.

"Move," Valerie commanded as she began splashing gasoline into the casket, soaking Julian thoroughly. "Unless you want to burn to a crisp alongside him."

She tossed the gas container aside and raised a hand toward the corpse. Stefan could tell she was taking a moment to savor the reassurance Julian's death would bring. Then, she invoked the familiar fire spell. A fire flashed throughout the entire casket but didn't last. The body remained unharmed. She tried again, but there was no fire.

"Should we, uh, get a match?"

Ignoring Damon, Valerie muttered, "I don't understand."

A few feet away from the coffin and the three crowding around it, Mary Louise and Nora appeared with smug smiles and narrowed eyes.

"Well, of course." Damon bounced his eyebrows at Stefan. "Guess it ain't a party 'til the mean girls show up."

* * *

 **So you've got a little Bonenzo banter, a sprinkle of Bamon feels—you've got some Stalerie tension, and some Beckoline bonding.**

 **OH, and** _ **finally**_ **, the first kiss between Damon and Rebecca—the initiation of their "arrangement".**

 **I hope you guys liked it! Don't forget to review/critique/suggest!** **I'm kind of grasping for ideas, like if you guys want more flashbacks or different interactions… Please let me know!**

 **Have a great weekend, loves.**

 **xo,**

 **glass27doll**


	15. Right By Elena

**A/N: Thanks to everyone for the favorites, follows, and reviews! Even those of you who are slightly interested in my story, thank you very much for gracing "One Thing, Every Day" with your eyes.**

 **Special thanks to RHatch89 and** **IvyMcNeil for reviewing with encouragement!**

 **I really enjoyed writing this chapter especially, so I hope you share the sentiment—send me a review and let me know!**

 **Warnings: Elena-bashing. Maybe triggers. Like 3 foul language moments.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own any of the TVD characters/plotlines/dialogue. I only own the Suttons and their storylines.**

* * *

 **Chapter 13**

Right By Elena

"Look who's in a _heap_ of trouble." Mary Louise's crossed arms and smug smile grated on Stefan. By her hand, Caroline had been tortured in the first place. She was vindictive. Her pale gaze thinned like a cat.

Nora oppositely pretended to be concerned. Her thick brows rose and came together with a small pout. "What's _Lily_ going to say?"

The hair on the back of Stefan's neck rose as Mary Louise's eyes twinkled, and her smile broadened. "Let's ask her," the blonde Heretic sang. Raising her voice just slightly, she announced, "Lily, we found Valerie. She's over here—trying to kill the love of your life."

Two pairs of shoes marched toward them—boots and heels rounded the corner, and Stefan turned to see a confused Beau and Lily. A flicker of his mother's initial reaction caught Stefan's eye—wide azure—but the moment her eyes laid on Valerie, all the hope and warmth had dissipated. As if she had switched her humanity, the woman regarded at the group coolly.

"Lily, I—"

The older woman held up a hand, and Valerie's mouth immediately shut. Stefan and Damon traded a look. That swipe of the air was by no means magic. It was Lily's mothering style. She'd have Valerie stew for a moment in her own fear of rejection and in the scrutiny of company; then, she'd send everyone away, so Valerie's scolding would be known as harsh and unyielding.

Lily's eyes fell on the open coffin, and her advance faltered. Stefan studied his mother's familiar face as she neared the casket slowly, the corners of her pressed lips twitching upward. His eyes flitted to Mary Louise and Nora, both wearing loving stares, and then to a nauseated Valerie. Lily hesitated but eventually recovered Julian's body.

"Girls, I'll meet you in the car." Lily's eyes remained on the shut casket. Predictable. "I need a minute with Valerie."

Mary Louise's and Nora's devoted expressions twisted with haughtiness as they pivoted. The disloyal Heretic swallowed uncomfortably, averting her eyes from her creator. Lily ran a finger up and down the spotless coffin. Finally, she faced the young vampire.

"You may have stolen Oscar's phone, but you left something behind in his pocket." Lily produced a large ring with a lapis lazuli. She twisted it around the tip of her finger as her lips curved affectionately. "Oscar always did covet Julian's ring. Beau found him easily with a locator spell." Valerie shifted uncomfortably. Severing her cold gaze from the ring, Lily actually looked pained. "Why would you do this?"

"Lily, he's a _monster_ ," Valerie urged. "Bring him back will only make things worse!"

"So you go behind my back, with my own sons, to destroy him." She punctuated her oversimplified summary with a glance between her youngest and oldest. She looked like she had swallowed something bitter.

"It's not like you listen to me! You were so blinded by your love for him—it was like no one else existed!"

Lily's eyes glossed over for a second. Stefan was familiar with that look; with glassy eyes, she'd summon her husband, their father, to take a belt to their hides. Valerie's accusation was a cry but not as fervent as the connection Lily's palm made with the witch-vampire's face.

"Hey," Stefan interjected firmly. "We get it. You're angry." His tone implied there was no need for violence. The woman's hardened attention trained on her youngest son.

"Whatever lies Valerie has told you, that's all they are."

"Technically, she's been a bit _vague_ on the details." Both brothers watched Valerie's watery eyes as she treated to her original spot next to Stefan. "I mean, mass-murderer, homicidal manic, and typical run-of-the-mill bad guy stuff." Damon stepped forward, past Stefan and Valerie, standing nose to nose with his mother. The act was self-sacrificing, Stefan knew, despite what Damon would claim if questioned after the fact. The older Salvatore may act selfish and careless, but he certainly had a soft spot for teary-eyed girls. "But before we just _hand_ him over, you mind telling us what we're missing here? Who is this, _really_?"

Lily's chin rose as she regarded her son; her eyes shone with residual emotion and something Stefan had only remembered from early childhood. "This man is the love of my life. The man I didn't think I deserved—the one I fought for. _Waited_ for. The one I told myself I could _change_ for." The woman with crystal eyes peered at her eldest son dangerously. "He makes me better, Damon. You know anything about that?"

Stefan knew where his brother's mind had flashed to because his went to the same memory. Elena. The battle was lost; Damon ducked his head as he muttered, "A thing or two." Even after years of being motherless, the woman who abandoned them could still make him concede.

Emotion aside, Lily straightened her back and folded her hands. "Then, we are through here. Beau," she prompted.

From behind them, the last male Heretic pushed past Valerie, shaking off her grip and her shrill, "No, please, don't!" The look Beau gave Valerie was parallel to many looks Stefan had given his own brother—disappointment combined with hurt and disapproval.

Valerie spun and beseeched, "He'll ruin us!" The brothers' switched their attention to Beau's waning silhouette with the casket. "She's playing you! He didn't make her _better_ —if anything, he made her vindictive and _cruel_."

Stefan's forehead creased as he immediately asked, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Who do you think gave Kai the idea to put Elena in that 'sleeping beauty' coma?" Valerie hissed, tearing her pleading gaze from Stefan to Damon. The apathetic darkness clouding Damon's eyes lifted at the sound of his eternal love's name. Stefan saw the anger begin to burn brightly.

"Who?" the dark-haired Salvatore demanded. He towered over Valerie; Stefan crowded him, ready to rip him back. Valerie, however, stared into his face confidently.

"Lily."

Everyone turned to the older woman. Her glare alone could have killed Valerie. Her eyes switched to Stefan and, carefully, to Damon.

"Is that true?"

Damon's eye twitched. When the brothers had found out Lily hadn't died, that she was eternal, Stefan knew Damon took the news the hardest. Stefan loved his mother, but he was young enough to hold her memory high. Damon, after more years of more severe abuse from their father, was less forgiving. Her return could have been something redeeming. Now, Stefan was sure Damon would end her.

"She wanted to make you pay for refusing to help rescue us from the prison world," Valerie supplied, glancing between mother and son.

Suddenly, Damon had Lily's throat in his crushing grip. "Screw Julian," he gritted through his teeth, "I'll just kill you!"

Damon's body flew backward; Beau calmly and purposefully returned. The mute had a thick scowl on his face as he stood next to Lily protectively. At one point, that would have been either one of her biological sons. Damon growled as he got back on his feet. Before anyone could make another attempt on her life, Beau raised his hands, and all of the coffins exploded.

Several shards of wood flew into Stefan's body, pinning him to his back. His eyes stayed open long enough to see his brother's body slam into the concrete floor with a permanent grimace on his face.

* * *

Bonnie raised a hand to the door she just shut and spelled it impenetrable. " _Vis porta_." She heard Enzo's exasperated scoff.

"Spelling the door?" She turned with a dangerously raised brow. "I thought you were leading us to a secret passage."

Unlike the vampire, Bonnie was out of breath from running. She vaguely reminded herself to get back to working out… other than escaping the greedy hands of death. She frowned at the British vampire. "You watch too much Scooby Doo," she panted. Behind her, Oscar slammed into the door. She jumped. "Maybe he'll tire himself out, and we just go out the front door."

"Or I can just jump out this window while you fend for yourself," Enzo sniped, advancing toward the window with salvation lighting his eyes. Bonnie rolled hers and gripped the vampire's shoulder, turning him.

"First, give me that stone back."

"First, tell me why it's so special." Enzo's counter paired with bouncing eyebrows; Bonnie could see why Damon had been capable of maintaining a friendship with him.

"It's some kind of _trap_ for a bunch of souls," Bonnie finally confessed. Was there another choice? "If Lily wants it, someone she cares about must be inside."

Enzo's gaze lifted, past Bonnie, but he was clearly piecing together his previous knowledge and her words. She peered at him, mutely noting his handsome features.

"Julian."

"Great." Bonnie scoffed, her green eyes turning upward. "Because we need another _Heretic_ running loose around here."

"He's not a Heretic. He's a long-lost vampire _boyfriend_." He said the word like it was something spoiled.

"Then you _definitely_ don't need it," Bonnie reasoned. She tried to keep herself from sounding desperate. "Do you _really_ want to hand her the means to bring the dead _boyfriend_ back into the picture?" She could tell her sharp argument and thinned gaze were getting to him. "Have some _dignity_."

Enzo exhaled sharply, turning his back to the witch, rubbing a hand over his face. At the same time, Oscar heaved his body into the door once more. Bonnie's heart nearly ejected from her chest. She idly thought about contacting Rebecca to come and save her… but the vampire had been so confident in Bonnie. Enzo turned back with, "What makes you think I want romantic advice from a _lovelorn_ witch?"

Bonnie shot back immediately, "I'm just _saying_ maybe you deserve better."

A familiar hum came from the door. Bonnie and Enzo's shared gaze of curiosity quickly twisted into recognition—then, dread.

"Bad news," Enzo grumbled. "I think Oscar just learned how to siphon."

The sound of the door hitting the wall beside it was secondary to the sudden loss of oxygen and pain Bonnie experienced as Oscar shot into the room and had her by the neck against the wall.

"Where is it? Where is the stone?!"

Bonnie's wide eyes fell on Enzo's frozen stature. He was a vampire. He could figure this out.

"He has it!" she gasped.

Enzo glowered for only a moment before trying to jump from the second story window. Unfortunately—for him—Oscar released Bonnie and stood defensively, blocking Enzo's exit strategy. Bonnie suppressed a triumphant smile as she bounced her eyebrows and sauntered out of the room.

* * *

"That _bitch_ ," Damon growled as consciousness rolled in. Soreness throbbed from all over his body. Shards of wood embedded in his torso, limbs crashed backward into the cement floor—the vampire needed the blood of a small town to recover.

Faintly, he heard Stefan's own rumbles to his right. The younger brother, held up by only an arm, ripped pieces of wooden from his body. When his diaphragm was free of debris, Stefan feebly called for Valerie. Damon didn't care. There was only one solid thought in his frantic mind.

"Hey, are you okay?"

Stefan, already standing, inspected Damon swaying on his own feet. What kind of _stupid_ question was that? Blue eyes darken.

"I'm _fine_." His growl gave away his plan to speed off, to track Lily, to mercilessly swipe her head off her delicate, Victorian shoulders—or, better yet, tear her limbs off one by one.

"Hey, hey, _hey_." Stefan set his hands out between Damon's revved body like the older Salvatore was a rabid, vicious beast. Stefan wasn't far off. "Whatever you're thinking, we're _not_ going to do that."

"I'm thinking I should rip out her heart and bronze it like a trophy," Damon snarled. Stefan's extended hands slammed against his brother's chest as Damon tried to move forward again. The wild clear eyes didn't deter Stefan's set expression.

"She is still our _mother_ ," Stefan attempted, but Damon's eyes widened even more dangerously as he regarded his brother. How _stupid_ could Stefan really be?"

"Exactly! Our _mother_ , Stefan, is the _reason_ Elena's in the box while the world passes her by," Damon snapped, waving a dramatic hand. If he had to, he'd throw Stefan across the room and destroy their mother.

"I know, I get it," Stefan prevented Damon from jetting out of the room again, "Just remember, you're turning a new leaf."

"Screw the new leaf!" Damon's exclamation echoed against the concrete walls and floors. "She _stole_ Elena from me, and every _ounce_ of happiness I've ever known! I am _not_ going to just _let_ her walk away from that!"

"We're not going to _let_ her walk away from that," Stefan interjected with one final slam to detain Damon. The older brother glared at the younger, sizing up the assurance for a second. If he didn't hear what he needed to, he'd bolt and shred Lily's heart to pieces. Maybe kill the rest of her Heretics first. "I promise. But, right now, I need to find Valerie. So, just… tell me that you're _fine_ , and you're not going to do anything _stupid_."

As Damon's body healed, he snorted at Stefan's proposition. It wasn't _him_ that was doing something stupid. Who _cared_ about Valerie what's-her-face! Lily needed to die! She should have died long ago, from that disease, and she should have never had the mercy of a vampire, to be brought back from the brink. Even as a human, the woman was weak for a man, and she did things and let things happen that should have never happened—things that hurt and damaged her own children she claimed to love _so_ much.

An idea ignited.

She needed to die… but, in a parallel sense. Killing her _Heretics_ wouldn't be enough to move her into depression. She needed to feel the pain, the emptiness, the hopelessness Damon felt. It would be poetic and detrimental. It would be cunning and devastating. It would be painstakingly _perfect_.

"I'm fine," Damon huffed. "I'm okay."

* * *

Skull Bar was full of students on the night Alaric lost his wife. Great. His eyes dragged along the crowd but did not catch the one face he desperately needed. He walked up to the bar, ordered a shot of whiskey and pulled a picture of Jo and himself from his wallet.

"Have you seen this woman?" The bartender eyed Alaric critically after filling the shot glass. Alaric's expression flattened. Now was not to time to be critical of a man's intentions. Alaric raised his left hand to the young man's face. "She's my wife. We got into a fight, and she ran off… Did she, at least, come in here?"

"For a minute," the young man admitted. "She looked kind of spooked by all of the people. She booked it. Sorry, man."

"Yeah…" Alaric set a ten-dollar on the counter and threw back his shot. It didn't even burn. Shame. "Keep the change. Thanks."

"Good luck."

Alaric scoffed to himself as he turned away. He'd need it. His cell phone rang as his eyes peeled for her dark hair and pale eyes. He fished the device out of his pocket as he dodged some rowdy young adults. He swiped the screen to answer. He sighed.

"Hey."

"You with Jo?" came Bonnie's immediate response. The man wondered if it was by pure luck that she asked the question of the hour, or if her witch senses were tingling.

"No… she freaked out a little." He tried to downplay it. The love of his life almost shot him for putting a hand on her back—for comfort. "I could really use your help looking for her, actually." He rubbed the back of his neck as he bee-lined out of the establishment.

Bonnie's pause was short but dense. She clearly was spending too much time with Damon. Alaric had spent enough time with the vampire to distinguish the specific pause and to decipher it.

Bad news was coming.

"It's not her, Ric." Against the muffled conversation in the bar, Bonnie's voice was an exhale he almost missed. "It's not Jo."

"What are you talking about?"

"We made a mistake." Alaric's stomach knotted as he exited the bar. Maybe he misheard her. "The Stone doesn't bring back people from the dead. It's _just_ an old relic full of souls."

Didn't bring people back from the dead? Alaric wanted to shout at the young woman. Jo had been _very_ dead—for months!—and now she was… as alive as she was. Despite the hurdle of memory, she was still his Jo.

"Bonnie, that is my wife." He stopped a few feet away from the bar, staring at his shoes. Her words buzzed around his head, bumping into one another to reveal the truth, but he wouldn't let them. "I know who I'm looking at, okay? She's just—she needs a little time to adjust."

"No, it's not her—Jo was never in that stone, Ric. I put someone else in her body, I am _so_ sorry." He heard her voice crack as she explained. Alaric ran a hand over his face at her shaky sigh. "Where are you? I'm meeting up with Damon. You can come by, and we can… figure this out, _together_."

Across the street, Alaric spotted the familiar silhouette of a woman staring into a closed pawnshop. All of her dark hair twisted onto one shoulder, her back stiff, and her arms hugged her body. She stood as if she was sizing up an opponent in the window. It was his beautiful wife, his beautiful Jo… or, maybe, a soul injected into her body…?

"I got to go." He hung up as he heard Bonnie's deep breath, undoubtedly to convince him otherwise, and he crossed the street, carefully stepping closer to the panicked woman. Her gaze bore deep into the eyes of her reflection. It slowly shifted to him as he stopped behind her. His greeting was a gentle, "Hey, I… I just want to talk."

"Here." Her eyes were blank as she regarded Alaric. It was almost a slap. She calmly passed the small handgun back to him. "I realized I have no idea how to use that thing." Alaric allowed a breathed chuckle as he tucked the gun into the waistband of his jeans. She took a step closer to him and leaned in. "Nothing about this world is familiar to me…" she whispered. "Not you, not any of this—not even my own reflection."

Alaric studied the woman. Bonnie's jarring words crashed into one another, into the complete picture. He swallowed the grief that threatened to pour out of him once more.

"You're not my wife."

"No…" Jo's bright eyes darted around. "I don't think I am. If I'm not Jo… who am I?"

"I don't know." He searched her clear eyes. "But you're not alone. I'll help you." He paused to produce a small smile, to refrain himself from tucking some hair behind her ear affectionately. "And we'll figure this out… together. Okay?"

Alaric reached his hand toward the woman who looked like his wife. Even if she wasn't Jo, she was still in her body. When he vowed to love her forever and unconditionally, though it wasn't foreseen or explicitly listed, his heart knew it applied to this situation as well.

The woman's delicate fingers slipped into his strong grip, and he squeezed gently before leading her back to his apartment.

* * *

Standing before her floor length mirror, Caroline examined her new outfit. A black tunic dress, with a plunging neckline, a pair of dark floral leggings, strappy sandals. She clasped a small pearl pendant necklace around her neck and watched it settle between her breasts. Subtle, but, more importantly, it was classy.

"You actually picked a nice outfit," she murmured, turning to see how the back looked. Her long legs looked slim; the dress didn't stick to her butt in an unflattering way.

"I heard that."

Caroline's cerulean gaze shifted to Rebecca's march into the dorm room. Because Caroline's date was a dinner, Rebecca announced she needed food. She returned with a paper bag that reeked of grease and potatoes. She flopped onto Caroline's bed unceremoniously and crossed her ankles as she leaned against the pillows. She tossed a fry into her grinning mouth. Caroline rolled her eyes.

"Well, don't let it get to your head." Caroline fluffed her hair relentlessly.

"You look absolutely beautiful." Caroline twisted away from her reflection and cast a wary look at Rebecca's genuine smile.

"You don't think I should wear some more makeup?" Caroline's question became a mumble as she inspected the shimmer of her eyelids and the shine of her lips. Rebecca's shoulders rose and fell as she continued to munch on her dinner.

"If you really want, but regardless, Stefan will love it."

"You really think so?"

"Oh, I _know_ so." Rebecca eyed the outfit with her mouth curved deviously. "You are _welcome_ , for the night you two will have."

" _Wow_ ," Caroline drawled though both ended up laughing. Caroline picked up her cell phone. It was getting late. She set it down, screwing her eyes shut. She was giving Stefan the benefit of the doubt. "So, what are _your_ plans for the rest of the evening?"

"To head into Mystic Falls." Caroline could tell the other woman was trying to conceal her eagerness. "Probably share a drink or two with Damon."

Her nonchalant words piqued Caroline's interest. After hearing the story of Damon's "lessons" with a young, impressionable Rebecca, Caroline had grinned for the rest of the day triumphantly. She hadn't lost her intuition, not even in the slightest. Though she knew Elena and Damon claimed to be eternal loves—Caroline needed more evidence to be sold—she also knew Rebecca and Damon were first loves, whether either one knew or would admit to it.

" _Hmmm_."

"Not _this_ nonsense again." Hazel eyes rolled. Caroline noticed the older vampire's mouth twitch to grin. "What is it _this_ time, Care?"

Slightly stunned by the use of her nickname, Caroline pursed her smiling lips. "Maybe one drink too many will… stir things up again." Her blue eyes glittered as she smirked at Rebecca. The other blonde actually giggled, took another fry, and popped it into her mouth.

"I doubt Damon will take his eyes off the prize, his _darling_ Elena." With wide eyes, Rebecca sat up and apologized, "Sorry, I didn't mean to speak ill of—"

"She's not dead, and it's okay. You're just a little jealous—no big deal." Caroline's smug smile, paired with a wink, made Rebecca bit her lip. "The sooner Damon realized Elena is gone for a _long_ time, the sooner you two can…"

" _Caroline_!" Rebecca interjected with a laugh. "I didn't tell you the truth so you could just _tease_ me about it!"

"True." Caroline chuckled, going through the motion of picking up her phone, checking the time, and setting it down again. She felt the scrutiny of the other girl on her bed.

"You thinking about calling him?"

"I should?"

"If you don't, I will." Rebecca produced a chicken nugget from the paper bag and waved it at Caroline. "It is _very_ unlike him to be late."

"That _is_ true…" Caroline glanced at her phone. "But I don't want to be clingy or anything…"

"I'll handle it if you'd like," Rebecca offered. Caroline sighed, carefully combing her fingers through her loose waves.

"No, I'll do it."

Caroline finally picked up her phone and dialed Stefan's number. Wedging the device between her face and shoulder, she rooted around for the pearl earrings to match her necklace. The set had been a gift from her mother.

"Hey, Care—"

"Hey, not to be a _pessimist_ , but how late do you think you're _actually_ going to be?" Caroline launched before she lost her nerve. She caught a glimpse of Rebecca's attentively raised brows. "Should I move the reservation to _nine_ or—"

"I'm actually still in Mystic Falls."

"…or to _tomorrow_ or next _week_ …?" Her enthusiasm shot, Caroline unfastened the earring she had just put on. Rebecca pursed her lips. She was irritated.

"I'm sorry."

"Not good enough," Rebecca grumbled but shoved another chicken nugget in her mouth. Caroline gave her a tight-lipped smile, meant to be sympathetic, but she shared the same disappointment. She sighed and sat next to Rebecca carefully.

"It's okay." It wasn't, but she was waiting for Stefan's good explanation. He always had one.

"Things got complicated."

Rebecca was right—that wasn't good enough. What was so complicated that it just could _not_ wait until the morning? Still, Caroline supplied a plausible out for her new boyfriend.

"I know. Bonnie told me how the Stone actually works. Alaric must be so devastated."

"I'm sure he is." Caroline felt Rebecca's gaze on her hot face, but the other vampire was staring at her brightly colored toenails. "Um, hey, listen, I promise I'll—I'll make tonight up to you, okay?"

Caroline heard Rebecca's critical hum, but she didn't let it infiltrate her mood. She pushed the negativity aside and smiled at Stefan's attempt to amend the unfortunate events. His voice was soft and held an emotion she couldn't place… maybe he was just bummed about canceling too.

"Is there anything else monumental that I should know about?"

Caroline couldn't stop the question from falling out of her mouth. He hadn't mentioned Valerie since he found out their time together was just reconnaissance for Lily, and even then, Caroline had handled it poorly. Rebecca's head was suddenly on Caroline's shoulder, a sign of comfort. Surprisingly, Caroline didn't shrug her off. She needed it.

"No, no, nothing." Caroline's mouth twitched. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay… um, I'll see you tomorrow. Bye."

"Do you think he's hiding something?" Rebecca blurted the moment the call ended.

Caroline rested her cheek against the other girl's head. Stefan didn't usually lie to Caroline, and she didn't see why he would start lying now that they were a couple. Still, the way he brushed her off, canceled the plans he initiated—also unlike him.

"He might be," whispered Caroline. "But… I trust him."

"Would you like me to stay?"

"No," Caroline sighed, parting from her new friend. She wanted her to, but they weren't close enough for that yet. "I'm sure Bonnie will be back soon. I have some homework left over anyways…" Catching Rebeca's dubious gaze, Caroline forced a bright smile onto her face. "Seriously, Becca, you should go to Mystic Falls."

Rebecca's lips pressed together as she studied Caroline. The woman was two hundred years older than her. She probably read her like a book. Instead, she got to her feet.

"I'll punch that idiot for you."

* * *

Stefan looked down at his phone and heaved a weary sigh. He knew Caroline didn't deserve the lies he fed her; he knew she wasn't stupid. She'd figure something was off about him. But the "monumental" truth would have crushed their budding relationship, and, more importantly, it would destroy her sweet heart. It was destroying his.

Besides, it wasn't his secret to tell.

The vampire turned to the Lockwood study. Valerie faced the crackling fireplace, her arms hugged around her thin frame. Hearing his return, she turned to acknowledge him. Stefan wondered if she had been eavesdropping.

"You didn't say a word the whole way back."

Stefan's lowered eyes met Valerie's sullen face. He imagined his face looked the same though he tried to hold it emotionally blank. How was he supposed to answer that? How was he supposed to feel? The obvious—hurt, remorse, anger—but what could he have possibly said that would summarize his distraught feelings about his dead, unborn child.

"I didn't really know what to say."

"Well, can you give me the overview of the options?"

Stefan was glad Damon hadn't returned from wherever he had disappeared to. He had zoomed into the mansion, changing his shirt, and left as quickly as he had arrived. If he had been in the shadows, he would have heard Valerie's nearly shrill, whispered request. Would have heard the crack in her voice, smelled the salt of the tears pooling her eyes.

Had Stefan learned this information in his human years, he'd cup her face, thumb away the pain spilling down her face. He'd kiss her forehead, pull her into a hug, and still her shaking body. He'd rest his chin on her head and keep _himself_ from falling into emotional turmoil.

"I'm angry that I didn't know." Stefan's words sounded light. Oppositely, they were just detached. "I'm sad that something I could have had was taken away from me." His light eyes averted from hers as his jaw clenched. "I want to kill Julian for what he did to you, and I am sorry that you had to go through this alone."

As he finally looked at her, her gaze had already fallen. "After it happened, I wanted to die. I _did_ die. I took my own life." She pierced Stefan's gaze with her own. She didn't seem to notice the stark sympathy he felt as she continued bitterly, "I obviously didn't realize I had vampire blood in my system."

"That's how you became a vampire?" Stefan searched her stoic face. How many times had he promised himself he'd commit suicide to protect people from his sins? He, at least, had Damon to bring him back. Valerie clearly had no one. "You… killed yourself?"

A sour smile pulled Valerie's face like a grimace. "Far cry from that girl you met at the fair, isn't it?" Stefan pursed his lips, averting his gaze once more. "It's funny how _one_ event can change the outcome of your _entire_ life."

A somber silence settled between the former lovers. Rebecca had said she still believed things happened for a reason—reminded him that he had once shared that belief. So, for what reason did Julian beat Valerie near to death—killing their unborn child—and causing her to finish the job herself? For what purpose does Valerie have now, coming back into Stefan's life as he finally put his love life back together with Caroline?

"Please… don't tell anyone." Valerie's request was emotionless. "I couldn't bear for Lily to know."

"I won't, I promise."

"Look," Valerie huffed, "I don't presume to know you now—or even what you wanted back then, but—"

"Yes." Stefan's monosyllabic answer cut into her speech. Valerie's eyes widened. "Would I have wanted a child?" Stefan pursed his lips and swallowed his bubbling emotions. "Yes." With a sniff, he tucked the conversation away and suggested, "Look, we have, um, five guest rooms. You should probably stay the night."

"No." Her reply was immediate and sure. "I should run, as far and as fast as I can."

"Damon won't let Lily get her hands on that stone." Stefan's answer was also as definite. "And if she does, I will kill Julian myself."

Valerie's eyes welled with tears as she searched Stefan's immovable expression. Suddenly, her arms trapped him, her face buried into her neck, and her body shook with choked sobs. "You—you don't know how badly I just—I wanted to tell you—how I wanted—" She gasped. "How I _needed_ to tell _someone_!"

"Now you have." Stefan encased her in his arms. Absentmindedly, he pressed a kiss to her hair. "Now, you can move on. We can move on."

* * *

Now, I _know_ you're a college girl…"

Bonnie's head jerked toward the door. When she walked into the rundown Mystic Falls Grill, the sun cast long shadows, and she had to find some emergency lamps. Now, with the sun fully set, the majority of the layout was in darkness. Luckily, Bonnie knew the surly voice anywhere.

"But I _also_ know I taught you that bourbon trumps tequila _any_ day." Wide jade eyes fell on Damon's half smirk as he swaggered up to the bar. Bonnie managed to keep a straight face as she quirked a brow; his eyebrow automatically copied hers.

"I thought I'd let you choose the bourbon _you_ wanted, considering I'm such a _novice_."

The vampire's grin was proud and brazen. Tugging the petite girl off the barstool, Damon swathed her with his embrace. Her face mushed into his muscular chest, her nose struck by his thick cologne… and something metallic. She frowned, knowing the smell well enough to pull a fraction away from him.

"Were you bleeding or did you just stop for a snack?"

Reluctantly, Damon let her slip out of his grasp and lifted his shirt. Both looked down at his blood-covered abs. Obviously, there were no injuries—Bonnie checked _thoroughly_ —but Damon still scowled. Bonnie waited for his explanation.

"It's a long story. Let me grab a bottle."

Bonnie bit back a smile and scooted back onto her stool as Damon wiggled his eyebrows at her from behind the bar. He rummaged through the bottles under the counter and on the wall behind him. When he finally found the one he desired, he kissed the neck of the bottle before popping it open. He flashed around to Bonnie, setting two glasses out, and splashing the amber colored liquor in each.

"So, I already told you about the Stone's real purpose," Damon began after a sip. Bonnie's eager nod prompted him to continue. "Well, it turns out…"

Bonnie's entire body was on fire as she listened to Damon's synopsis of the day trip. She threw back two stout glasses of bourbon—more than enough for her short stature and human nature. The name Julian tickled her memory from her own day, as Enzo explained this Julian as Lily's late lover—as Damon now confirmed. She winced when he described Beau and Lily's exit strategy; that certainly explained the blood caked onto Damon's flawless body. She blinked languidly as Damon delivered the final piece of information he had deemed the "kicker". He called it correctly because she felt like her air had been violently forced out of her chest.

"So, Lily is the reason I'll never see Elena again."

"Apparently, she has a thing for emotional _torture_." Damon's eyebrows bounced as his mouth connected with his fifth glass for the night. Bonnie didn't even try to hide her amusement. Her silence caused Damon to look at her curiously.

"Guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree," she teased.

"Hey! I do _not_ go behind people's backs and torture them. I like my enemies to look me in the _eye_ and see the depth of my _rage_." Her joke seemed to have struck a discord in the vampire. She raised her eyebrows at him.

"You sure you want to do this?" She didn't know Damon's exact plan for his revenge, but she did know Damon and his style. It would definitely risk any redemption of his relationship with his mother. The man looked into the lamp between them.

"Burning that bastard's body would've been too good for Lily." His eye twitched. "I want to give her that man she's cherished and loved and missed for a hundred years… I want her to run into Julian's arms, and I want her to remember what it _feels_ like to have that love returned." Damon's wild blue eyes rose and pierced Bonnie's resigned face. "I want her to taste _true_ happiness…"

Bonnie watched him as he faltered as if he had just noticed the tequila was still on the counter. He picked up the bottle, tossing it around a little before pouring a shot and tossing it back. His pause was typical, dramatic Damon.

"And then, I want to rip his head off right in front of her." His lip curled as he cut, "I want to break her _heart_. I want to break her _spirit_. I want to _destroy_ her."

"So much for the new leaf, huh?" With a terse smile, the young woman clapped a hand on her friend's shoulder. She expected an eye roll, a defeated bounce of his eyebrows, but Damon's hard stare startled her.

"Tell me I'm being _stupid_ and _reckless_ and _cruel_ — tell me I'm _not_ doing right by Elena."

The corners of Bonnie's mouth lifted gently as she studied Damon's raw emotional state. This volatile Damon was the one she had learned to care for, the one she knew would keep her protected and would keep his promise to get the job done.

Her words were soft and genuine. "You're doing right by Elena."

"Well," Damon poured tequila into two shot glasses, "glad to see you boarded this train to Crazy Town, Bonnie Bennett." They shared a nearly smitten smile. "I was getting lonely all by myself."

Damon lifted his glass, Bonnie touched hers to his, and they both let the alcohol slide down their throats. Bonnie sighed and pushed the small glass away.

"Well, that's my limit," Bonnie murmured. "I'm surprised I'm even conscious right now."

"Your tolerance since the prison world has increased," Damon smirked. Bonnie breathed a laugh, peering at the shadows drawing Damon's face even sharper. "I'm glad things didn't fall to shit at the boarding house." Solemnity fleshed out his confession; Bonnie watched his eyes narrowed darkly. "No thanks to Rebecca."

"Don't be mad at her." Bonnie placed a hand on her friend's forearm; his gaze set on the connection. "She thought she was doing the right thing, letting me go alone. I didn't get hurt or anything. Besides…" Bonnie tossed her short hair behind her shoulder. "I doubt Enzo would have let me stay if Rebecca had chaperoned."

Damon's eyes suddenly lifted to discern Bonnie's reaction. "Enzo was there?"

"Yeah. He can be such a _dick_." Damon smirked at Bonnie's bitter comment, but her eyes caught on something across the room as she continued, "But he _did_ try to protect me from the wannabe Oscar. It was… kind of him. Nearly human…"

"Well, good thing you don't have to spend too much time questioning his motives, huh?"

Bonnie quirked a brow before covering her face with her slender fingers. Damon's question was strange, nearly cornering but for what? Bonnie exhaled a heavy breath she didn't realize she held. The scrape of the stool next to her made her quickly uncover her frowning face.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Suddenly, Damon's face contorted into an expression she had never received from the vampire personally. The smirk was downright scary, like an animal playing with its food before killing it.

"To tear into Beck for leaving my bestie to her own devices."

* * *

The Lockwood resident _felt_ quiet.

Damon, however, knew better than to rely on his human intuition.

With his supernatural hearing, he deduced there were three other people in the house. He passed the open office but caught on the dying fire and Stefan's hunched figure on the sofa. The forever seventeen-year-old raised his head from his diary— _journal,_ whatever—and studied his older brother. Damon stared back with a tight jaw. Stefan asked how he was. He said he was fine—as he had answered only moments after regaining consciousness and plucked shards of wood only inches from his undead heart. Stefan asked if he had a blood bag. Damon said no, he was on his way to getting one. With a final critical once over, Stefan explained that one of the other occupants of the house was Valerie.

"She's staying the night."

Damon's eyebrow arched. Hadn't his little brother convinced Caroline he belonged to her crazy Barbie-ness? "She _should_ be hauling ass out of here, before Lily, or Julian, or any of those damned Heretics come after her."

"It can wait."

Stefan' pointed stare made Damon frown slightly. It was unlike him to be adamant about something morally sensitive. Damon didn't feel like trifling. He shrugged and stalked into the master bedroom. Standing in front of the half-stocked closet was the third body. In her hand, a glass of whiskey, cut with blood. Her lips pressed together as she hummed one of those catchy radio tunes.

Immediately, his eyes stuck to the bright pink sweatpants hanging off Rebecca's hips. The waistband of her black underwear separated her pants and the thin line of her exposed belly. Her thin gray t-shirt knotted at the stomach, accentuating the curvature of her chest and the angle of her shoulders. Half of her damp blonde locks knotted into a messy bulb.

She smelled like his soap and her usual peppermint fragrance.

"I never pegged you for a 'hoodie' guy."

Warm eyes lay on Damon's stiff shoulders as he surveyed her unapologetically. Her mouth curled into a sweet smile—almost deteriorating his plan to reprimand her. His eyes flitted between her eyes and the fluorescence covering her long legs.

"Oh, I know. It burns a little," she looked down at her pants with a playful wince. "It's clearly not my first choice, but they're _extremely_ comfy. Care made me buy them."

The mention of Caroline made Damon's jaw clench. So, she had time to folly with Caroline but left Bonnie to defend herself— _again_? Rebecca tugged the navy hooded sweater from the confines of the closet and slipped her arms through it. Though the length of the arms and body of the sweater fit her adequately, she still looked undeniably dwarfed in his clothing. She wrapped it around her like a robe and snuggled into its thick lining.

"Caroline bought that for me."

"She has a way with fashion."

Damon hummed disinterestedly at her joke, rummaging through the dresser with his back toward her and found his pajamas. He left abruptly, walking into the connecting bathroom, and slammed the door. He might be slightly overdramatic—after all, he was Damon Salvatore—but, if she planned to be part of his life, Rebecca had to learn who was important to him. No matter how close he was with her in the past, Bonnie was his best friend now, and his little witch deserved more than a flippant text, seeing if she was still alive. Damon didn't care that Bonnie was capable of handling herself, he didn't care that Rebecca trusted Bonnie to do so—Bonnie Bennett deserved safety and ease-of-mind about her life, not some hyper-feminist _nonsense_.

Scrubbed his body free of blood, Damon stood under the scalding water for a moment longer. Maybe he shouldn't yell at Rebecca. She made a mistake. Granted, a stupid, _avoidable_ one, but she was still new to his life now. As he dried off and dressed in black plaid pajama pants, he decided to give his old childhood friend the last chance.

Rebecca sat on the edge of the fluffy king-sized bed. Her glass between her teeth as Damon returned to the bedroom, her golden gaze glossed over his body as he ruffled his hair with his towel. He smirked, and she averted her eyes as she drank.

"Here." She extended another glass of bourbon toward him as he neared. His brows came together, his confusion switching between her and the glass. Her bottom lip disappeared under her teeth. "You said you wanted to share a drink earlier…?"

"I met with Bonnie." Her arm lowered. "I had my fill with her."

"Oh." She poured the contents into her own glass. He noticed her eyebrows arch with displeasure. "How is she doing, by the way? Did she find out what she needed to…?"

Damon's jaw clenched. "Well, considering the Heretic she went to meet nearly killed her because it was another vampire soul in his body, yeah, I'd say she learned what she needed to." Rebecca's lips pressed together. Damon had no choice now. "You were supposed to be with her."

"I was with Caroline," was her indignant reply.

"Yeah. While you and Blondie were playing dress up, Bonnie was putting her ass on the line _again_. And for what? She didn't need to go alone. You could have been there."

Rebecca set her empty stained glass down, got to her feet, and glared at the dark-haired Salvatore with a withering look her older sister, Abigail, would have been proud of. "Bonnie doesn't _need_ saving. She is a _Bennett_ witch, and she is more than capable of dealing with a crisis."

"Yeah, Beck, but the thing is, she didn't _have_ to because I asked you to watch over her."

"What is with you _men_?" Rebecca scoffed, turning her head away with a dark smile tugging her mouth acridly. "We don't need to be _saved_ all the time. Bonnie—even _Caroline_ —both girls are more than able to defend themselves. To save themselves." Her gaze snapped back to him and scolded his face. "You think you've changed, Damon, but you're still the same man."

"And what does _that_ mean?"

"It means that you think every woman in your life needs saving. Newsflash, _darling_ , just because your mother didn't make it and you couldn't stop it doesn't mean every woman needs you." Damon's icy stare thinned. Her own gaze mirrored it; her nostrils flared. "You thought you could save Katherine from her death—albeit staged—but you couldn't. Based on the history Stefan filled me in on, you tried to save your little _princess_ over and over—"

"Rebecca, watch it."

"—again, and yet it took a _sire-bond_ —"

" _Rebecca_."

"—to see you for a person, not just a lifesaver!" Rebecca's eyes were riotously large, and her voice was nearly a cry. "Why are you so _eager_ to save that ungrateful _bitch,_ when—"

Damon flashed over to Rebecca, took her by the neck, and slammed her onto the white bed violently. He pinned her hands over her head, knees on either side of her hips, and snarled at her—fangs, reddened eyes, ropy veins and all. Her own eyes flooded with red, briefly looking like liquid fire, but there was something else lurking under the thick veins lining her face.

"Do it, Salvatore," hissed the blonde vampire. Her breath bathed his face as she leaned impossibly closer. Their noses touched. "Teach me a lesson. Make our fathers proud."

Blue replaced red as Damon's eyes widened and his grip loosened. Rebecca pulled free and swiped a hand across his face. He felt the heat and the sting of his skin tearing open, but his mind couldn't stay on the blood streaking his face. Just as suddenly as he had her pinned, Damon felt his head bounce against the wooden floor. Rebecca dug a knee into his chest and both hands enclosed his neck.

"Beck, I…"

"Oh, yeah, I _know_ you're sorry," her words delivered through gritted teeth. "You _are_ sorry." Her eyes narrowed. "Don't you _ever_ put your unwarranted hands on me _ever_ again. Me or _any_ woman. Do you hear me?" Damon's gurgle didn't placate her wrath. Her fingers tightened around the column of his throat; something snapped, and not just Rebecca's humanity. "Did I make myself clear, _Damon_?"

"Uh—uh huh, y— _yes_!"

The weight from his chest disappeared. His constricted throat opened and healed. With a spurting cough, Damon sat up and looked around the room, but he already knew.

Rebecca was gone.

* * *

 **Whoa. But, also, good on Rebecca for being one of the only women characters to stand up to Damon for his physical violence. Sure, Bonnie don't put up with him, but he knows better than to even touch her without permission.**

 **I hope you guys enjoyed. Don't forget to review/critique/suggest!** **I'm kind of grasping for ideas, like if you guys want more flashbacks or different interactions… Please let me know!**

 **Much love.**

 **xo,**

 **glass27doll**


	16. The Invitation

**A/N: Sorry for the two-week delay! I'm in the middle of moving and then there's school…** ** _Gross_** **.**

 **Thanks for those of you who have stuck around for more! And thank you for all the favorites, follows, and reviews! Replies at the end.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own any of the TVD characters/plotlines/dialogue. I only own the Suttons and their storylines.**

* * *

 **Chapter 14**

The Invitation

 **Mystic Falls 1859**

 _Rebecca fidgeted in the loose menswear. Leaning on the tree by the lake, she could hear her heart pulsing in her ears. Her eyes kept flitting to the road. It was dangerous for a seventeen-year-old girl to sit alone, in the dead of night, but she was waiting. Damon had sent a note with Samuel, who had visited Stefan earlier that day, and the torn parchment had one word—"lake". It was unusual for him to send a note, but when he did, she knew it was to avoid Stefan's company._

 _She picked at the long blades of grass. She plaited her hair over her shoulder, knotting it with a ribbon. She readjusted her clothing for the third time—tucking her button-up into the waistband of her tawny colored pants and refastening her suspenders. That was the weirdest part of men's clothing—suspenders. She sighed and folded her hands, frowning at their texture against one another. Her mother had this odd habit of washing clothes as the sun set and hanging them overnight. That was why her hands were wrinkly. It seemed backward to Rebecca—the sun's heat would surely dry the cloth faster—but her mother reminded her they washed clothes for eight people. So, Rebecca had spent hours scrubbing shirts, pants, and dresses alongside Abigail, Julia, and their mother._

" _Good evening."_

 _Rebecca yelped and immediately flung a hand over her mouth, eyes darting to the nearby houses. Her other hand covered her heart as her gaze switched back sharply. The moon illuminated Damon's amused smile._

" _Damon Salvatore!" she hissed as he nestled next to her. He leaned against the tree and slipped his arm around her shoulders. "You could have, at least, warned me you were near!"_

" _Ah, but where would my entertainment come from then?" Rebecca rolled her eyes at his smirk. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "How has your day been treating you?"_

" _Quite dull, honestly," she admitted. She nuzzled his neck before finding a comfortable position for her head on his shoulder. "It was my turn to cook supper, so, naturally, I made soup, since it is the simplest. Zeke and Sammy seemed to enjoy it."_

" _Your toughest critics," Damon muttered sarcastically. She felt his words in his chest as her fingers idly tapped against it. "They were probably only hungry after their losses." Rebecca smiled at his haughty tone; her brothers and the Salvatore boys had been playing cricket since school dismissed until suppertime._

" _And what did Abigail make for your family?" If Florence didn't go over herself, the Sutton mother had been sending Abigail or Julia to the Salvatore house to cook dinner since Lily had passed away. Damon shifted to press Rebecca more into his side. She wrapped her arms around his waist and laced her fingers on his opposite side._

" _Chicken and vegetables," replied an estranged Damon. "It was quite good, but Father had started early and complained the entire meal." He paused, and she felt his throat move as he swallowed. "Abigail took all of his vile words in silence, curtsied, and left." Rebecca knew a drunken Giuseppe had been especially cruel that night. Abigail immediately went and sat in her shared room with Julia, only to emerge when summoned to wash clothes. Her eyes were red and swollen. Damon cleared his throat and mumbled, "What else did you do today?"_

" _Washed clothes with Julie, Abby, and Ma. Ma told Zeke to tell you tomorrow, to bring your family's clothes."_

" _I'll wait for him to tell me." Taking a knuckle, Damon raised her chin to look at his mirthful face. His eyes focused on the blue ribbon as he unknotted her golden braid. "Wouldn't want Zeke or Mama Sutton to get suspicious…"_

 _Rebecca's mouth curled into a less than innocent smile as her eyes lowered to Damon's smirking lips. Since Damon had corrected her sloppy kissing technique, he hadn't stopped "teaching" her. Likewise, she never stopped practicing. The boys of her age were slowly learning that the blonde was selective, but whoever was graced with her company would be considered lucky._

 _In a fluid motion, Damon cradled Rebecca's head as he reclined their bodies onto the soft earth. His gaze loitered down her face before finally falling on her mouth. His tongue pulled his lips under his teeth for a brief moment. Rebecca was impatient. She lifted her mouth to slant against his. She felt his lips pull away in a smile and the low chuckle in his chest as his body lowered against hers. She tangled her fingers in his curly dark hair and pressed into the kiss fervently._

 _Damon slid his free hand down her arm before drifting it back up her side, settling it against her ribs. Heat pricked Rebecca's face and down her spine as Damon's lips left hers and attached to her neck. Her mind was in a fog. More like a mist. Both of Damon's hands were suddenly gliding up her suspenders. He pushed them off her shoulders, and his fingers easily began unfastening her buttons. He could probably hear her heart thudding against her chest as she arched closer to him. They had never reached this point—she had never let any boy undress her—yet, the progress felt natural, and she was comfortable in his hands._

 _His mouth ghosted straight down her chest and then… all traces of Damon were gone. Rebecca's eyes snapped open, and she propped herself up on the elbows, unashamed of her current nudity. Damon stared at her pale body, albeit lower than she expected. She also didn't expect the expression contorting his features. She glanced down._

 _Oh._

" _George did this, didn't he?"_

 _The whisper was nearly inaudible, but was, by no means, soft. Damon's eyes pierced the greenish blue blotches coloring Rebecca's stomach and ribs. Rebecca's lips pulled into a purse as she avoided Damon's ice eyes. Suddenly, she felt a wave of insecurity. Of ugliness. The concocted emotion was unfamiliar to her, especially in the nineteen year old's presence. The cold gaze she had been avoiding finally met her ashamed one. Immediately, the venom in his glare dissipated, and he pulled her shirt together, carefully buttoning it shut._

" _This is why you wouldn't go swimming last week." He knew she'd remain silent. What would she even say? "Why you faked your ailment before then. Why you flinch whenever someone yells. Why you never change in front of me."_

" _That last one is for different reasons," Rebecca murmured, knowing he was trying to joke, to make her laugh. The corners of her mouth curved, but her eyes were dull. "Damon, please, don't—"_

" _Does your mother know?" Again, silence. "Does Ezekiel know?"_

" _To an extent," she allowed. With a sharp inhale, she raked her fingers through her tangled locks. "Just, don't… Let's not ever talk about this again."_

" _Beck, we cannot just—"_

" _Damon,_ please _." Rebecca's voice broke. Damon's eyes widened. The girl locked her emotions deep inside; he had never seen her cry past the age of nine. Rebecca looked at the dirt and clenched her teeth for a minute. "I do not want to talk about this. I do not want you to talk to Ezekiel, Stefan, or_ anyone _about this. And I do_ not _want you to go to George and make this any_ worse _. Please, Damon."_

 _Damon's blank stare bathed Rebecca's exhausted face. She had been keeping this secret for quite some time, and, had it not come to light, she would have kept it for longer. Probably 'til her grave. Finally, Damon gave a sharp exhale. The snort was all the assurance she would receive. He got to his feet and offered his hand. Rebecca's brows furrowed as she stared at the hand that would have skimmed her bare skin. Damon noted her longing by the smirk parting his face, but it was less playful than usual._

" _I'd like to walk you home now, Beck."_

* * *

There was an oddly placed bay window in the Lockwood kitchen, and Rebecca found solace in it. Knees drawn to her chest, breath fanning over her coffee, the woman stared out at the vast estate. Everything basked in early morning light. The lake glimmered. The woodland creatures hummed awake.

Last night had been rough. After she zoomed out of Damon's room, Rebecca found herself in the backyard, doubling over and gasping for air—as if _she_ had been the one choked. There was _no_ logical reason for her reaction, _still_ shaken by her human years of abuse—it was nearly two centuries ago, for crying out loud!—and yet, she inhaled the air tainted by dirt and grass like her lungs were on fire.

A ragged breath pushed the sheet of steam rising from her beverage. Her golden gaze swept across the lawn to the picturesque woods, as the sunlight infiltrated the umber trunks and cast a striped shadow. Last night, those same trees were gnarly and ominous; she had decided to take her walk through the forest. She had heard a predatory growl too familiar to ignore. Stepping carefully and silently through the brush, she had spotted Stefan, mouth hungrily attached into a full-grown buck. His red eyes had switched from his prey to her, but all she did was raise a hand, telling him not to worry, and left.

The rest of the night was spent in a dusty guestroom with intermittent sleep. The woman would wake, gulping air like she had been drowning. She'd flip her pillow, press her face against the cool fabric, and start the process all over. Eventually, she rolled from the confines of her sheets, into the shower, and finally made her way to the kitchen.

Sipping her coffee, Rebecca heard the low rumble of a sleepy male voice. She turned to listen more intentionally. Stefan's whimpers made her frown. He sounded close. Cradling her mug with both hands, Rebecca followed the distressed noises and found Stefan uncomfortably curled on the small sofa of the front sitting room. His thick brows pinched together, and his body tensed. Finally, he relaxed.

The front door opened and shut. A floral fragrance wafted into the house. Caroline appeared next to her and stared at Stefan. He tensed again, his fingers curled into fists. Caroline hummed with concern.

'How long has he been doing this?"

"Only a few minutes, as far as I—"

"Jacob!" Stefan's sudden call caused both girls to jump. Caroline looked to Rebecca for clarification, but the older vampire kept her bewildered gaze on her sleeping friend. She didn't know if Stefan knew a Jacob, but he didn't during his human years. " _Jacob_."

Caroline rounded the sofa, sat at the edge of the seat, and threw a worried look at Rebecca. The older girl didn't respond, letting her blank expression fall on Stefan again. Caroline gently shook the agonized man. It took a moment, but Stefan finally gasped awake.

"Hey, it's just me," Caroline cooed and placed a gentle hand to his face. The two girls watched Stefan's frantic eyes dart around, sharpening as he recognized his surroundings. A sigh heaved his chest and looked between Caroline's hopeful face to Rebecca's skeptical one.

"Hey." He pushed himself up, staring at his knees like he was still trying to orient himself.

"Who's Jacob?" Rebecca's abrupt inquiry earned a sharp look from Caroline. Stefan's gaze switched between his friend and his girlfriend. Rebecca took a gulp of her coffee and raised an impatient brow. Caroline, however, seemed genuinely concerned.

"Who?"

"Jacob," Caroline supplied carefully. "You were yelling his name."

"Oh, um…" Stefan swung his legs around Caroline, onto the floor. He sat on the edge of the cushion. "Must have been a bad dream." Rebecca's eyes narrowed at Stefan's avoided eye contact. Red flag—liar, liar; pants on fire.

"Oh, probably because you're sleeping on the couch, silly," Caroline offered a giggle. Rebecca noticed this was the second time she offered an out for the young Salvatore. Though the underlying skepticism was there, probably due to residual disappointment about their canceled date, Caroline allowed Stefan to slip past. "What are you doing down here?"

"That would be my fault."

The three turned around. Valerie, still dripping from her shower, loosely wrapped in a flimsy towel, stood awkwardly behind Rebecca. The older vampire immediately scowled at the Valerie, and the Heretic's sudden glower proved she recognized Rebecca.

"You!"

"Yep. Like the sins you only _think_ you've atoned for, I'm here for the long haul." The corners of Rebecca's mouth ticked up briefly. Valerie's eyes narrowed.

"Of _all_ the people in this godforsaken town, it had to be _you_ who turned into a _bloody_ vampire," she seethed.

"You must take your job _very_ seriously, don't you, _witch_?" Rebecca shot back just as snidely. Valerie's raise brow prompted Rebecca to continue wickedly. "Home-wrecking, of course. Clearly, that's why you're still here."

Valerie's expression softened as she turned to Stefan. Rebecca knew that look; it was the one that a girl gave her man, to save her, to help her. No wonder Damon thought—Rebecca shut her eyes and took a breath. Rebecca wasn't buying the victim act. "I just wanted to let you know I used the last of the shampoo."

"And you have to come down _right_ away to tell him? I didn't know that was so urgent that—"

"Valerie, I didn't know you were staying here." Though Caroline's voice was light, it cut the tension of the room. Internally, Rebecca knew the younger blonde was bubbling over just as she was.

"Stayed," Stefan emphasized, throwing a brief look at Valerie before fidgeting. "Past tense—um, just one night." He cleared his throat as Caroline and Rebecca glared at Valerie and Valerie back at Caroline. The young blonde's eyebrows were nearly at her hairline as she regarded Stefan.

"I should go put some clothes on."

"Nice of you to _finally_ grow a brain," Rebecca muttered against her glass mug. As she turned to walk away, Valerie muttered something under her breath, clearly not in English, and Rebecca's coffee boiled violently, burning her mouth and nose. The blonde vampire spurted, ready to throw Valerie into a wall, but the Heretic was gone. Rebecca groaned and gave Stefan a pointed stare. Translating the look, Caroline's own demand came with a hardened expression.

"Explain."

"Okay," Stefan hasted, "Lily wants to raise Julian from the dead. Valerie tried to scorch his body before she could get her hands on him, and that did not work out so well."

"Not following how that's our problem." Rebecca smirked. Caroline's blunt response elicited a twinge of pride.

"If and when Lily welcomes Julian back into his body, he will found out what Valerie did, and he'll come after her." Stefan's pleading green gaze flitted between the two stoic vampires. Caroline pursed her lips and looked back at Rebecca, who copied her expression and shook her head.

"Yeah," Caroline also shook her head, "just _not_ connecting those dots."

"Well, maybe," Stefan's teasing voice lowered, and Rebecca noted how his eyes darkened as he regarded Caroline. His small scoot toward his girlfriend was Rebecca's cue to leave. She barely heard Stefan's, "You can just trust me, that I know what I'm doing."

Rebecca settled back into the nook and scanned the manicured lawn. For an abandoned town, it was still rather kempt. It had been a few months; Mother Nature should have started invaded the synthetic world. She idly wondered if the park on the Sutton property was as fortunate. She'd probably give it a visit before she moseyed around another town for the day—maybe longer. She couldn't stay in the empty Mystic Falls with only the Heretics and the Salvatore brothers as company.

Valerie's forced throat clearing from the other room caught Rebecca's attention. The blonde rolled her eyes and grimaced. "Whatever we're doing, we should do it fast," she heard the aggravatingly bossy voice. "The Phoenix Stone turns people mad, and Julian's soul's been in it for over a hundred years. So, anywhere he is, I need to be as far away as possible."

Rebecca finished her coffee and pocketed her cell phone lying next to her. As she made the straight march to the door, she noticed the stark reflection in foyer mirror. Tousled jet hair, half-lidded azure gaze, chiseled shirtless chest, black pajama pants. Damon ambled down the stairs sluggishly. While kneading an eye, his eyes rose briefly. He stopped in the middle of the staircase and stared at her denim clad back apologetically. When his eyes caught her light ones in the reflection, she bolted.

"I'll be out, Stef. See ya, Care."

* * *

Alaric knew he should stop. He knew this was only embedding the knife deeper and deeper in his bleeding heart. He _knew_ it. In the recesses of his mind, even in the pit of his gut, Alaric knew that sitting in front of his television, watching the wedding recording, pausing on Jo's smile, rewinding their vows was toxic. Despite knowing better, the man sat with a glass of gin and the remote in his hand. He pressed the rewind button for the ninth time. Jo's familiar features contorted in reverse before he pressed play. He heard his voice, though his back was to the camera, and Jo's reaction was as radiant as the sun.

Alaric's cell phone rang, vibrating in circles on the coffee table. He ran a hand over his stubble, tossed back his liquor, and finally answered the call. "Hey," sighed the man weary man.

"Hey." Bonnie's curt greeting launched into, "Remember when we used an ancient relic to raise your wife from the dead and ended up imbuing her with someone else's soul?"

"Why are you calling me?" Despite his respect for her, Bonnie's attitude was the last thing he wanted to tackle at the moment. Especially when it coated the hard truth about his not-so-wife. Bonnie gave a short chuckle that was near as a dark as their shared friend's, Damon.

"Because I'm at Scull Bar right now, where 'Faux-Jo' is currently holding her laptop like it's a _book_ ," came the flat response. Alaric looked down at his glass, swirling the dregs. Bonnie hissed into the receiver, "You promised me you would help her figure out who she was before she did anything crazy."

"Yeah, and every time I look into her eyes, I see my murdered wife." Alaric's retort caused a bitter taste at the back of his tongue. He poured another drink and took a liberal gulp. "So, I'm taking a break."

"Look, I know this is probably _impossible_ for you." Despite the sympathetic statement, Bonnie's tone was stiff and unforgiving. "We have _no_ idea what's going to happen to her. But, we can't just leave her _unattended_."

"Well, just keep an eye on her then."

"I can't!" Bonnie exasperated. "I have to go to Mystic Falls. Lily Salvatore is having some _peace_ party mixer—which'll probably result in half of my friends nearly dying if I don't attend." Alaric's lazy gaze followed a bubble spiraling around his glass. He knew what she'd say next. "So, get here now. Preferably before someone asks 'Jo' to perform surgery. Okay?"

Alaric did not reply. Instead, he hung up. He gritted his teeth. All he wanted was his wife back. Bonnie had come back several times, he even cheated death a handful of times. He didn't ask for this magical switch-up, for a random soul stuffed into his Jo's decaying corpse. The weary man glanced back at the paused video. Jo's lips curled into an enamored smile; her face glowed as he vowed to dodge fate with her—for the rest of their lives.

What he would not do, to see her, one more time—Jo Laughlin in Jo Laughlin's body with a smile that touched the deepest abrasions of his heart, making its own spotlight on the most wounded part of his soul.

* * *

While Stefan entertained Caroline on the back deck with the breakfast he had quickly whipped together, Damon had sat at the kitchen table with his back to the love-struck couple. There had been, conveniently, enough leftovers for two. The older Salvatore allowed Valerie to think she snuck past him, gathered her food, and disappeared without him noticing. He took the remaining two pancakes, pile of scrambled eggs, and three strips of bacon. Stefan had always been a pretty decent chef. The dark-haired vampire had a newspaper spread to the international news as he cut his pancakes. He, however, only glanced at it. The words wouldn't link together into a coherent story. His own swarming thoughts plagued him.

Rebecca's reflection carved into his memory by the blade of fault. Honey eyes lit with panic, chaotic heart thundered, corners of her mouth drooped—and then, she was gone, with a quick goodbye to Stefan and Caroline. She had definitely seen him—her eyes piercing his—but maybe she has seen right through him. Maybe she saw his father—or worst, her own.

Damon barely noticed Caroline strut past, a greeting and farewell packed into one breath. He hardly even noticed his brother clear the table, wash the dishes, and reorganize the already tidy kitchen. Stefan mentioned something about Valerie, but Damon mindlessly grunted, sipping his spiked orange juice.

The melody of the doorbell was what finally brought Damon back to reality. He followed Stefan into the foyer cautiously; the younger vampire threw a wary look at his brother before opening the door. Damon could see the terse curl of Stefan's lips as he greeted their guest. Damon, oppositely, took his farther stance as an opportunity to frown and study their guest.

It was Beau— the mute Heretic, who used his horrible witchy powers to stab them with a million shards of wood, the one undoubtedly loyal to Lily. Damon smirked to himself, biting his lip at his internal joke: it wasn't like Beau had much of a _say_ in the matter. The Heretic handed Stefan an envelope with a weak smile and a feeble bow.

Abruptly, the guest turned to jog down the steps. As he passed, Rebecca returned. She walked past him, a stack of books in her arms, and watched the witch-vampire leave with confusion drawing her brows together. Damon's eyes stayed on her as she walked up to Stefan with a pinched expression.

"Was that one of them?" Her eyes dropped to the envelope before she could see Stefan's grim nod. "That looks fancy."

Damon snatched the envelope from Stefan's cautiously tedious hands and ripped the top off in a precise line. His eyebrows rose as he gave the cardstock a cursory glance. He glanced at Stefan and Rebecca before reading it aloud with a pompous voice.

"Lily Salvatore requests your presence to celebrate our town's peaceful spirit and introduce a new friend. This evening. Five o'clock." He folded the paper with a sneer of a smile and stuffed it back into the embroidered envelope. Stefan's eyebrows were high; Rebecca's gaze fell to her books. "Hmmm, looks like Mom raised her 'man crush' from the dead."

"I'll have to dust off a suit." Stefan looked at Rebecca curiously. "You're gonna come with us, right, Becca?"

Rebecca's startled gaze fell on Stefan before cooling drastically. She graced Damon with a millisecond of attention. "Didn't you say I was some sort of secret weapon? The objective of being 'secret' is being _hidden_ , no? Out of sight, out of mind." Damon knew her acidity wasn't really meant for the younger Salvatore, and he had a sneaking suspicion Stefan knew too. "You know, I can do you one better—I'll be out of Mystic Falls until you decide you need me."

A flash of blonde, lingering peppermint and the brother stood alone in the foyer. Damon felt his brother's heavy scrutiny, but they stayed silent until they heard Rebecca's door slam. Fortunately, she also blasted her music.

"What did you do?"

"I didn't—" He couldn't even lie. What was this? Damon Salvatore does _not_ feel _guilt_ or _remorse_! "We _may_ have had a _bit_ of a… an _argument_ last night. More of a _disagreement_ , actually."

"Again, Damon, what the hell did you do?"

Damon wasn't stupid. He knew, had he had controlled himself—kept his hands to himself—Rebecca wouldn't be so tense whenever she was near him. But, Stefan didn't know about Rebecca's life under the heavy hand—belt, switch, chair, lamp, whatever—of George Sutton. Damon didn't think it was his place to explain it, either. So, Damon matched his brother's hardened stare.

"Are you _seriously_ not going to—" Stefan lifted his hands in defeat. He shook his head. "Forget it. Just _fix_ it. It's rare we have someone from the past return as an ally, and I am _not_ going to let you screw this up."

"But… I mean, she looks busy," Damon tried. "All those damn books, you'd think she had a book report or something."

"Damon, just go _talk_ to her. Don't be an idiot."

Too late, Brother.

* * *

"Seattle looks nice!"

Caroline's wide gaze switched between her laptop and the eternally gloomy witch-vampire. When she had offered Stefan to create Valerie a new life and a new identity, she did not factor that she would actually have to spend time with Stefan's first love. She also didn't consider Valerie's terrible outlook on everything. Caroline, however, would not let her efforts to get rid of the main obstacle of her life currently.

Caroline turned the laptop toward Valerie, eyebrows hiked with feigned excitement. "Hey, they've got the Space Needle, _great_ coffee, Mount St. Helens…"

"Rain," droned Valerie's addition. Caroline's smile faded.

"Didn't take you for much of a _sunshine_ person," she mumbled. She felt Valerie's narrowed glare, but she slipped the laptop and continued the search. "Um, I mean, there's always Indonesia. Oh, you could rent a hut on the beach, and drink out of coconuts—"

"And be nine _thousand_ miles from your boyfriend in either direction."

Though she had been insecure, Caroline knew how to fight for whatever she believed was rightful hers. She always behaved with authority, always in charge, and other girls cowered in her presence—if they weren't trying to grovel for her approval.

Valerie, however, was the epitome of a "monkey wrench in the machine". Caroline's assertive personality rolled off an unaffected Valerie. She didn't even _try_ to seem interested in Caroline's help. Everything about Valerie made Caroline's blood boil—especially her duality. The Heretic was trying to stick around as long as possible, it seemed. Didn't she say she needed to get as far as possible from Julian, like, seven times on the way to Whitmore?

Caroline was simply being _helpful_ , offering Indonesia. Its distance from Stefan was just an added bonus. Caroline rolled her eyes and shut her laptop. She wouldn't let Valerie see her sweat.

"Let's put a pin in locations for a moment, and talk _names_ —because Valerie Tulle is _way_ too traceable. I'm thinking…" Caroline tapped her chin before a dramatic gasp. "Matilda! Oh, you could _totally_ pull it off! Matilda—Matilda _Pettigrew_!" With a forced British accent, she added, "From Liverpool, England." She smiled proudly, eyeing Valerie's grimace. She pushed her legal pad in Valerie's direction, hiding her smug smile. "What, do you want to write this down…?"

"You're handling me like I'm a wounded bird." Valerie leaned forward on her hands planted on the desk. Caroline raised a brow. "Like I'm some sort of victim, but I'm not." The witch-vampire lowered herself into a chair, her hands folding her brow creasing. Caroline watched the manipulative liar carefully. "When Stefan kills Julian, he can't hurt anyone else, and I can just… put this whole mess behind me."

Caroline's brows joined. This had to be another trick. "What mess?"

"You know… the whole reason I'm afraid of Julian? My _big_ secret? The _entire_ horror story?" Valerie leaned back in her chair, waiting for recognition to dawn on Caroline's face, but it remained in a fixed in frown. Valerie's gaze tinted with curiosity. "Stefan _must_ have told you." Caroline's confidence faltered, and her lips pursed as Valerie leaned in with sudden—albeit muted—delight. "Oh, he promised me he wouldn't tell anyone, but I didn't know that included _you_. Well, his loyalty certainly is attractive, isn't it?"

Valerie had to be spinning lies again. Stefan didn't lie to- Caroline averted her eyes. She had noted something was off about their conversation last night; even when Rebecca inquired, she admitted her boyfriend could be hiding something from her. Caroline trusted Stefan, but Valerie seemed to be pulling the strings here.

"Okay, I'm sorry— _what_ didn't he tell me?"

"Never mind," Valerie quipped, her disposition brightening. She pulled the writing pad closer and tried to hide her smile as she wrote. "As you were saying, Matilda Pettigrew… from Liverpool, hmm? That's good… I like it."

* * *

Despite the circumstances, a small part of Stefan missed the nonsensical reasons the town found to get all fancy and throw a celebration. Finding a suit was like dusting off an old hobby for him.

"Someone looks dapper."

Stefan's eyes averted from his reflection to his childhood friend. Rebecca smiled gingerly as she lounged sideways in the antique armchair behind him. She had a book in her hands, but the cover looked blank.

"Ah, the bookworm emerges from her cave." His tone was cool, remember her uncalled for outburst in the foyer. "I thought you said you were going to disappear."

"I… I will." She ran her hand over the blank cover absentmindedly. "I just wanted to apologize… for taking my feelings out on you. You didn't deserve it. I'm sorry, Stef."

"I know." Stefan shrugged under her curious gaze. "I forgive you."

"Thanks."

Still fidgeting to make an interesting knot, Stefan inquired idly, "So, how's the reading going?"

"I've finished two novels already." She scoffed and rolled her eyes. "If you can even _call_ them that. How do the youth of today even read these tragically recycled lover stories over and _over_?" Stefan chuckled at Rebecca's staged shudder. "Love triangles are _disgustingly_ overrated."

"I would have to agree with you there, Beck."

Stefan raised his faze to his brother sauntering in, with his hands uncharacteristically void of alcohol and tucked into his pockets. Rebecca swung her feet around, sitting upright, as she shot a look at the dark-haired Salvatore. Stefan saw just a gleam of what he thought was panic, but it disappeared. Her eyes were simmering with annoyance.

"Ah, going no tie?" Stefan observed casually, dissipating the sudden tension. "Then, I'm going no tie." Stefan undid his work and tugged the tie from his collar. Rebecca made a sound of protest.

"Why would you take fashion advice from _this_ one?" she argued. Damon's eyebrows shot up with amusement. "Your mother would be _truly_ pleased to see her _baby boy_ all dressed up for her _little_ party." As she rambled through, her voice became increasingly more sarcastic. Damon snorted at Rebecca, who grinned at Stefan's flat reaction.

"Not just 'no tie'," Damon replied as his laughter died down. "No _going_."

Stefan frowned. Damon wasn't the one to turn down an opportunity to wear a suit or tuxedo, no matter what he tells anyone. He'd probably try to cover the guilty pleasure by mentioning the free booze, babes, or blood—if not a combination of the three.

"You saw her invite. Julian's back." With finality, he declared, "You're going." With a pointed stare through their reflections, Stefan added, "You too, Becca."

"To watch Lily bat her eyes at her zombie douche-brain boy-toy?" Both green and hazel eyes widened at the nickname. Damon scoffed. "Thanks, but I rather stay home and stub my toe. _Repetitively_." Damon's humorless smile made Stefan's jaw clench.

Couldn't he just _try_ to be less selfish the night Stefan needed his reckless vampire of a brother to be his distraction?

"With great regret, I'd have to agree with your brother on this one." Rebecca shrugged, her lips tugging into a pursed side smile. "I may have apologized for my attitude, but I'm taking back what I said. I need to get out of here for a bit."

"Then, why are you here?" Rebecca's eyes flashed with disbelief instantly.

"You _do_ realize that 'zombie douche-brain boy-toy' is living in _your_ house," Stefan interrupted, planning to egg his brother's impulsion. He pulled on his jacket, watching Rebecca diffuse her next cutting comment. "Bathing in _your_ bathtub. Eating _your_ Froot Loops."

"Oh, I _know_." finally turned to face his brother's looming sneer. "I _also_ know he's the love of Mom's life. _Mom_ —who convinced Kai to link Elena's life with Bonnie's, so I'd be miserable for the next six-plus decades."

Stefan's eyes unintentionally swiped to Rebecca's attention on the two brothers. Her tight expression softened as she stared at Damon's profile. Feeling his green gaze, her eyes snapped to his before lowering them awkwardly.

"What are you getting at?"

"Julian makes her happy, Stefan. The more time they spend together, the _happier_ she gets—the more _tragic_ it'll be in six months when I hand-deliver his heart to her."

"Six months?" Stefan echoed flatly.

"Yeah, you know, give or take." Damon shrugged. "Let her get her hopes up. Let her start planning their _entire_ eternity, and then— _squish_." Damon punched his fingers together to punctuate his high-pitched declaration. "He's dead."

"That might be a bit of a problem, Brother," Stefan replied, his brows furrowed as if he were in deep thought. "Because I plan on killing the bastard tonight." With a tight smile, Stefan clapped his brother's shoulder and turned to Rebecca. She raised her dull gaze to his with an arched brow. "You should come tonight; I'd like you there."

Without her answer, he headed straight to the wine cellar, whistling confidently as he rooted around for an appropriate party gift for his dearest mother.

* * *

Rebecca had forgotten Mystic Falls was in the middle of nowhere, so the easiest place to disappear to was Whitmore. She took the bus. She wanted to watch people. She sat next to a knitting elderly woman. She smelled like generic brand soap.

"This is for my grandbaby," the woman started. Rebecca raised her brows and pulled the earbuds out of her ears. "I'm knitting this for my grandbaby," the woman repeated. "His name is Justin."

Rebecca eyed the two-tone blanket and produced a polite smile. "That's sweet of you."

"He was born on _my_ birthday, last week." The little woman giggled. "My sixty-second birthday, and baby Justin came to celebrate."

Rebecca vaguely remembered her own sixty-second birthday. She was fangs deep into a prince, a gift from her companion at the time. Rebecca produced another meager smile.

"Being old isn't all bad," the woman continued, her fingers working automatically. "You get grandbabies, but you don't got to take care of them." To that, Rebecca laughed genuinely. "You have kids, honey?"

" _No_ ma'am." Rebecca cleared her thick voice before adding, "I don't even have a boyfriend."

"You don't have a—" The woman's bluing eyes widened. "Darling, you are a _beautiful_ young lady. There _must_ be a whole gang of boys chasing you!" Her voice dropped, as she added, "Unless you're hanging out with the gays—nothing's wrong with that, but it just means no babies."

"No one's chasing me, ma'am," Rebecca chuckled. "They used to, but I guess I'm tired of it."

"Sweetie, you'll find the right one. One that'll make your mama proud and your daddy put away his gun." Rebecca's lips curled at the woman's bright smile. The bus halted, and the woman stood to see the name of the stop. "This is me! Good luck to you, darling!"

"You too, ma'am."

Old people were a marvel. They were a glimpse of what she should have been, but... despite it all, she was glad she never had the chance.

Her mind wandered back to Mystic Falls. After Stefan left, Damon had come into her temporary room and sat on her bed. Her nose was buried in another book—another sappy love story, but she didn't want her morning trip to go to waste.

"I'm… I'm sorry." Her eyes rose above the pages covertly, but he wasn't even looking at her. His elbows rested on his knees, his profile twisted. "I didn't mean to…" He ran a hand over his face. "You know what? I _am_ a monster. Like, my father. Like your father. But, I never meant to hurt you. It was reflexive and—"

"Why didn't you tell me Lily was the reason for Elena's sleeping spell?" Damon turned, confusion etched into his features.

"Does it matter?"

"I wouldn't have said all that stuff about her if I knew you were hurting _about_ her." Rebecca pursed her lips briefly. "I wouldn't intentionally hurt you—and the truth _hurts_."

"I need to react better, I guess."

"No kidding."

A pause of tension hung between the childhood friends. Damon's gaze trained on her book, but hers planted on his face. Finally, he cleared his throat and shifted his eyes to hers. "Are… are we good?"

"If you're asking if I _forgive_ you, the jury is still out."

"I'll make it up to you. But, first, I need you to come to this party with me." Rebecca rolled her eyes, and Damon noted it with a humorless smile. "I know, but I don't want Stefan to kill Julian just yet, and going alone could be dangerous. Julian is older and apparently loony." Damon sighed, glancing at her set face briefly. "If not for me, do it for Stefan."

"Why do you—" Rebecca clamped her mouth shut, feeling the anger bubble. Damon's brows came together. "Of course I'll do it to protect Stefan, but I would've gone for _just_ you."

The bus stopped, lurking everyone forward except the vampire. Rebecca stepped into the central part of the campus and inhaled deeply. She left Mystic Falls for a reason—she needed a drink, in more than one way. The seemingly harmless blonde sauntered into Scull Bar, trying to order a Scotch.

"Isn't it a bit early for that?" the bartender inquired, leaning closer to her. Rebecca didn't even sit. Her warm gaze tapered. "Who's broke your heart, beautiful?"

"No one, but I'd be happy to quite literally tear right through yours," she seethed. The man's smirk slackened, and she rolled her eyes. Using compulsion, she said, "Forget what I said. Get me a damn Scotch, on the house."

The young man turned and got her order mechanically. "On the house," his mouth ejected automatically. Rebecca bounced her eyebrows and gulped her drink.

"Care…?" Rebecca turned to the familiar voice. The voice belonging to the catalyst of the fight Damon picked with her. Bonnie's terse expression loosened at Rebecca's unamused face. "Oh, sorry, you just look like you fell into Caroline's wardrobe."

Rebecca glanced down at the floral tank top, black jeans, and denim shirt knotted around her waist. Rebecca shrugged before producing a cool smile. Despite her best intentions to compartmentalize, Bonnie's unassuming presence irked her.

"Fancy meeting you here."

"Well, one, I go to school here," Bonnie snorted. Rebecca's lips ticked up briefly. "Two, I've been babysitting the fake Jo until Alaric came." She knocked her head back to the sofas. Jo was telling Alaric about her WedMD findings. "What are you doing here?"

"Getting away." Rebecca took another hefty swig. "Want one?"

"I don't really drink before noon," Bonnie countered. "Are you okay, Rebecca? You're, um…"

Rebecca eyed the girl. Her body was frigid, her features stony. She was on guard. Somewhere, in those green orbs, there was something she had almost successful hid, but Rebecca had been around for a while.

"Fear not," Rebecca declared theatrically, "I haven't flipped that _whatever_ switch. Don't even know how. I just got into a small altercation with dear ol' Damon, and…" Rebecca's sigh was weary; sarcasm stripped away as she combed her fingers through her hair. "I'm just having a rough day." She lifted her glass as an exhibit and finished it. "By the way, call me Becca."

"Okay… _Becca_ ," Bonnie tested. "I'm sorry about Damon, he's just…"

"Don't worry about it." Rebecca waved a dismissive hand. She raised her glass to the bartender with a cold stare. He gave her a wordless refill. "Don't you have classes or something?"

"I _do_ , but I have to go dress hunting for a stupid cocktail party Lily is hosting," Bonnie replied grimly. Rebecca raised her eyes and sipped her drink.

"Damon invited me to go," she mused, swirling her drink and watching the ice collide. "I figured I'd let the boys fight over who gets to slay the dragon boning their mom."

"Eloquent," Bonnie commented, holding back a grin. "You should go… Caroline can't, and it'd be nice to have another girl there." Rebecca scoffed, curled her lips in after her swig. "No, seriously. We can shop for dresses and whatever."

"You want to?" Rebecca's question revealed more emotion that she was willing to show the witch. Bonnie placed her hand on Rebecca's shoulder and rubbed her thumb against her skin. "Aren't witches supposed to hate vampires?"

"If you haven't noticed, all I have left are vampires," delivered Bonnie with a bitter smile. Rebecca guzzled the rest of her drink and towered over Bonnie for a minute.

"I suppose I could spare some time since you missed the little shopping spree yesterday." Rebecca eyed the short young woman before producing a dry smile. "You'd look good in something vintage—lucky for you, _I'm_ vintage enough to help. Let's go."

* * *

" _Bonnie_ , let me _see_!"

"I look like a hooker."

"Okay…?" Bonnie twisted to look at the back of the dress. "Do I need to _pay_ to see the dress then?"

Bonnie snorted as she laughed. Her smile sagged as her skeptical gaze stayed on her reflection. The black body con dress hugged every part of her, leaving nothing for the imagination. She heard Rebecca whine again, so she pushed out of the fitting room with a sigh.

"It is _really_ just _not_ my style— _at all_."

The blonde rested her face in her hand, thumb over her lips as she scrutinized Bonnie's insecurity. Wordlessly, Rebecca motioned for the girl to turn, so Bonnie complied. Rebecca's bright gaze made Bonnie uncomfortable. She folded her arms over her stomach.

"If giving everyone at the party eye-gasms isn't your _style_ —the, by _all_ means, I'll put it back on the shelf." Rebecca's blunt response made Bonnie's jaw drop. Rebecca shrugged. "If you don't go home with anyone, _I'd_ take you home."

"I'm not going to 'pick up' anyone." Bonnie's lips pursed for a moment. "I just want to show my face, so no one gets killed, and then go home to study for my Orgo exam in two days."

"How glamorous." Rebecca turned to the rack of dressed she had picked with a dramatic eye roll. Bonnie watched her waggle her fingers before retrieving a blue one. "Last one, Bennett. The rich blue will totally complement your skin tone." Bonnie blinked. "What?"

"I thought you hated shopping?"

"I do." Rebecca's mouth curved into a smirk. A ghost of Damon's familiarly quirked lips. "Doesn't mean I'm not pretty damn great at it."

"Noted."

Bonnie shuffled back into the dressing room and peeled the black dress from her resisting body. The ribbing of the dress had printed into her skin. She inhaled deeply when the dress was finally at her ankles, and she surveyed the new dress with mild interest. She'd never worn a dress so well-made. She idly checked the price tag.

Rebecca mistook Bonnie's squeal as a sound of delight. "Do you _love_ it?"

"I don't _love_ this _price_ ," Bonnie hissed, knowing Rebecca could hear. The vampire sighed.

"I'll spot you for it. A small token of my appreciation that you didn't die on my watch." Bonnie scoffed. "Just try it on."

Bonnie rolled her eyes. She carefully unzipped the dress, shimmied into it, and cautiously zipped it back up. The most revealing part of the dress was the v-cut back. The sweetheart neckline showed an appropriate amount of cleavage without making her feel like her Grams would find a way back to whoop her. It tapered at her waist before falling like a ball gown, despite its length barely touching her knees.

"Your silence speaks volumes, Bonnie dear." Bonnie bit back her smile as she spun out of the dressing room. The other girl grinned, holding her face with glittering eyes. "You _have_ to let me buy it for you."

Bonnie chewed her lip as she surveyed herself in the tri-fold mirror. "Come to the party," she finally said. "That's my condition." The blonde pursed her lips, eyeing Bonnie's merriment as she swayed the skirt of her dress. She slid her hands down the dress and gasped as she reached her waist. "Becca, it has _pockets_!"

"Fine, I'll _go_." Bonnie's wide gaze fell on Rebecca's amused smile. "Get dress, I'll go pay."

Bonnie grinned and nearly floated away. She shed the dress hastily, handing it to Rebecca through a small crack in the door, and redressed. She gathered her jacket and purse and found Rebecca at the cash register.

"Thank you _so_ much," Bonnie beamed as Rebecca handed her the shopping bag. She'd definitely pay her new friend back, but Rebecca didn't know that. "Do you make a habit of buying your friends expensive gifts?"

"I would… if I had friends." Bonnie noticed Rebecca's wry smile as she pushed through a rack of short dresses. If anyone could pull off a short dress, it was the leggy blonde. Bonnie frowned.

"Caroline and I are your friends." Rebecca raised a brow without stopping her search. "You have Stefan and Damon." Bonnie paused, her curiosity glossing over Rebecca. "You really don't have _any_ friends?"

"Humans die. Vampires are selfish." Rebecca held a sparkly red dress to her body. Bonnie's nose scrunched. "I had a really good friend about a century ago—she was a witch, actually—but, you know… death is inevitable." Rebecca turned to a taller rack, inspecting the long dresses.

"I don't know what I'd do without my friends." Bonnie's murmur seemed to affect Rebecca, as the blonde faltered and gripped at a purple gown. "Luckily for you, I'm not that easy to shake."

Rebecca's sudden chortle made Bonnie grin widely and proudly.

* * *

 **Trying to dip into Rebecca's past a little more, trying to establish her relationships with the MF gang. I've caught up with the recent TVD episodes, and I know** ** _exactly_** **where Rebecca is going to fall into place.**

 **Hope you enjoyed! Send me your thoughts!**

 **xo,**

 **glass27doll**

* * *

 _ **Replies**_

 **Silently Tearful:** Thanks! I'm glad she stood up to him too—someone needs to! Sorry, the chapters are coming kind of slow—between work and school, I'm trying my best! Rebecca's backstory is coming sooner than you think! Thanks for reviewing!

 **I'm bad at making usernames:** Glad you enjoyed! Thanks for reviewing!

 **E:** More on Rebecca's past (including her husband and family) coming soon! Thanks for reviewing!

 **Kimchi759:** You're right, her life doesn't revolve around Damon. I wanted to establish how much he meant to her, and how shocking it is for him to be back in her life. I promise there is more coming about her life post-Damon and her life as a vampire! Thanks for reviewing!

 **IvyMcNeil:** Bamon is my lowkey ship, so I love dabbling with their chemistry. Yeah, Rebecca's pretty spot on 'cause all she knows about the whole DE relationship is based on whatever Stefan had told her. I'm glad you liked it! Thanks for reviewing!

 **RHatch89:** Thank youuuu! Glad you're enjoying it!

 **Leveragefan101:** I'm really glad you're enjoying it! Things are kind of escalating slowly between Damon and Rebecca, but that's only 'cause Damon's mind is still wrapped around precious little Elena (note the sarcasm haha). More backstory coming soon! Thanks for reviewing!

 **Guest:** If you couldn't notice, my own biases filtered through during that scene, haha, but Rebecca has always told Damon what she thinks without holding back—and there'd be no point is holding back at this point. Damon did deserve to hear the truth. Even in the show, they've been slightly Delena-bashing, and it's _great_. Glad you liked it. Thanks for reviewing!


	17. The Cocktail Party: Part I

**A/N: Hey everyone! Here's the update—some juicy stuff happening! Again, I'm in the middle of moving and nearing midterms—but I'm trying to make time for this fic.**

 **Honestly, guys, I'm starting to lose some steam. Send me reviews for inspiration and motivation? Thanks for all the support (favorites, follows, and reviews) thus far!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own any of the TVD characters/plotlines/dialogue. I only own the Suttons and their storylines.**

* * *

 **Chapter 15**

Cocktail Party: Part I

The warmth in the library enhanced the sudden flood of her sweet perfume. Damon didn't turn as he splashed bourbon into a stout glass and raised the crystal vessel. "Liquid confidence?"

"Now, why wouldn't I be confident?"

"You haven't seen my mother in two centuries." Damon shrugged, pouring her a drink anyways. "She's a real number. If _I_ had fair warning, I'd have been totally wasted when I saw her again."

"I guess all 'shock-factor' disappeared when I found out you were alive." He heard her sigh. "But I'm always up for a neat drink."

Damon's signature smirk sagged at the sight of his childhood friend leaning against the doorframe. Rebecca's fiery gaze dragged down his formal wear with mild interest, a glow of carnality before she walked over and took the glass. His lip caught under his teeth as he noted the shadowed leg peeking through the long slit of her floor length dress. Her wedding band hung on a chain, resting on the taunt material covering her chest. Her wavy tresses were pinned back on one side.

Framed by dark shaded of gold and the same burgundy of her dress, Rebecca's eyes were as light as her bourbon glinting in dying fire.

"Damon, you're staring."

"Am I…?" Damon's question came out in a shaky breath. She arched a brow, studying his features as he brought his glass to his lips. "Well, it's hard not to. You look amazing."

Rebecca eyed her old friend critically as she took a gulp. His gaze pierced her flat expression, his mouth forming a terse line. Her pale lips twisted into a sinister smirk. "Darling, don't I _know_ it."

The two finished their drinks in silence. Damon's eyes unintentionally darted over to his friend. Growing up, Rebecca dressed in homely dresses or in hand-me-down menswear; she never intentionally drew attention to herself. The only times he had seen her in formal dresses were for the annual Founders' Day Ball, and even then, her teenaged body was covered in modest ball gowns. The woman before him now… she was something _else_ , glimmering and sensual.

Damon offered his arm to escort her to his Camaro; she ignored him. She gathered her dress and strutted through the front door. Damon's crooked arm fell. Rebecca had perfected her cold-shoulder; she always made him stew in his guilt. She was always making a point of proving her independence—especially from him. With a frown, Damon sped ahead of her to at least, open her door. She slipped into the small car without any sigh of appreciation. In fact, she didn't show any emotion for the entire painfully silent car ride. Finally, as they walked up walkway to the Salvatore boarding house, she gripped Damon's arm.

His eyes dropped to her nails digging into his forearm before raising them to Rebecca's preoccupied expression.

"Can I help you?"

"I just… need a minute." Her eyebrows pulled together as she stared at the wooden door. Damon studied her face pinch for a moment. "What if she rejects me," he barely heard.

"Why would…" Damon pried Rebecca's fingers from his arm and encased them in his hand. "Lily has no right to reject you." Rebecca's head snap at him with confusion plunging her eyebrows together. He raised a brow. It was unlike Rebecca to be so… insecure. "What does her opinion matter anyway?"

"I…" Her warm gaze fell. "Apart from my mom, she… she understood."

His eyes widened. "My mom knew about George?" Rebecca's pursed lips answered his demand. "Okay, so Lily knew, and you bonded— _whatever_. What did she do to save you?" Damon's voice was hard. "The same she did for me and Stefan—absolutely _nothing_. The Lily in this house isn't the same one you knew."

Rebecca's head bobbed in a hasty nod, acknowledging more than agreeing, and she tugged her hand from his grip. She lifted the knocker. Damon wrapped his arm around her shoulders and rubbed her arm coarsely. As the swung open with a groan, Damon took a step forward. His mouth warped into a false smile as Lily's loving eyes fell on him.

"Damon! I'm surprised you—" Her gaze swung to the blonde stepping next to Damon confidently; this was the Beck he knew and admired. Damon's stare pierced Lily's unidentifiable concocted emotions, as Rebecca's features remained cool. "Rebecca… you-you're alive…?"

"Clearly, _Mother_ ," Damon drawled. Lily's eyes fluttered up to her older son before falling back onto Rebecca with glee, cloaking something… darker. Before he could piece together an explanation, Lily pulled Rebecca into an embrace. "Welcome, Becky."

"It's Becca now," she corrected as her arms loosely attached to Lily's thin frame.

"I'm both surprised and delighted you've accepted my invitation," Lily gushed, regarding Damon with a smile he assumed held warmth. She extended her arms to hug him.

"Well, you know, it is _my_ house." Damon's humorless smile caused his mother's arm to drop. "Wanted to show dear _Becky_ here my pride and joy."

"His liquor collection," Rebecca supplied knowingly. Damon shot a glance at her with a smirk. After all of these years, she was still in his head.

This time, when he offered his arm, Rebecca looped hers through and ducked her head as they passed Lily's rejected form in the doorway.

* * *

Posed with his gift, a vintage bottle of wine his mother would certainly love, Stefan waited for someone to answer the front door. His front door. He may have thrown taunting words to Damon, to rile him, but Stefan was equally irked that Lily, her Heretics, and now her lover, were all playing family in _his_ house.

Lily swung the door open with curious blue eyes sweeping the entrance and settling on Stefan with a sweet smile. He knew the look from his childhood. He produced a wry smile.

"Am I allowed in or does your cleaning lady need to invite me in?"

Lily's eyes glittered with amusement and delight at Stefan's playful jab. Despite what his older brother thought, Lily was searching for her sons' acceptance again. Making this act easier, for she'd never expect her youngest to put a stake through her boyfriend's heart.

We had her sign the house over to us. She was too expensive." He could see her reveling in the light banter. "Come in."

"Thank you." Stefan passed the threshold, half expecting a cruel joke, and released a breath he hadn't realized he was keeping in. Handing her the bottle, he smiled. "Compliments of the Lockwood cellar."

"Ah, thank you." Lily glowed as she scanned the label.

Stefan walked into the dimly lit main room with his hands tucked into his pockets. He surveyed the intimate party. Light chatter permeated the atmosphere, but there was hardly anything of substance. Nearly every heartbeat in the room belonged to a human, confirmed by the sudden urge to tear through each jugular vein in the room. He quirked a brow.

" _Oh_ , where did all these people come from?" he inquired lightly.

"Neighboring towns," was his mother's lofty reply as she settled next to him and scanned the crowd. Proudly, she added, "We promised them a night of drink and conversation."

"Ah, so you compelled them."

Her eyes met his; he could see the underlying irritation. He hoped she could see how much he did not care. "I wanted to show you what _peace_ looks like," she defended, though her tone remained airy. "None of these people are in danger."

"What?" The obnoxious outburst made Stefan tear his eyes from Lily to narrow them at his drinking brother. Damon's eyes flashed. "No tie?"

"What are you doing here?" Stefan's steady yet cold question matched his expression. He felt Lily's gaze swapped between the two curiously. As children, the brothers would resort to physical confrontation; Stefan could tell she was worried they hadn't changed much.

"I missed my stash," Damon shrugged, taking a liberal drink from his glass.

"He even brought Becky—I mean, _Becca_." Lily shut her eyes as she corrected herself; Stefan took the second to shoot an incredulous look to his brother. "Can you _believe_ it? The world is _such_ a small place." Lily smiled, patting Stefan's back. "Why don't you boys go mingle? I'll put this away."

The brothers smiled until she was out of view. Stefan caught his brother's shoulders before Damon could disburse into the crowd. The younger brother dragged Damon deeper into the room, away from the main crowd.

"Tell me you and Becca are here to help me."

"You know how you wanted to, uh," Damon's voice dropped to a whisper, " _redecorate_?" Stefan hummed at his brother's ridiculously coded question. Damon leaned in and declared, "Can't let you do that."

"Why the hell not?"

"Because Lily just _rearranged_ the furniture, and she needs a little time to _live_ in it. You know, fall in love with the whole _feng shui_ of it all."

"Yeah." Stefan's eyes rolled as he scoffed. "Let me guess. For six months."

"Okay, I _give_ up." Damon's face twisted with frustration. " _What_ am I _missing_ here? Why do you care _so_ much?"

"Let's just say that the _furniture_ Lily recently purchased is _psychotic_ and needs to be disposed of _immediately_." Glancing around, Stefan switched gears. "Where's Becca?"

Damon inclined his head to scan the room and frowned. "I don't know, she was just—"

"Gentlemen—welcome!" Stefan stiffened as the man from the coffin sauntered over confidently, nursing something that smelled like gin. The familiar face made Stefan's fists clench. "I'm Julian."

"I'm Damon," the older Salvatore allowed politely, reaching to shake the older vampire's hand. Julian's frugal smile made Stefan's tapered gaze suddenly roll.

"Lily told me _all_ about you. Of course, you were only a boy back then, and now, you're… well, _you_." Stefan noted Damon's tight jaw. Without skipping a beat, Julian pivoted. "Stefan, how long has it been?"

"I don't know," Stefan replied freely. "I must have lost track after I stopped thinking about you."

"Huh." Julian's shifted over Stefan's dry smile and Damon's wild eyes. "My charm is being lost on you. You must be _dreadfully_ sober. Beau!" Passing at the very moment, the last remaining male Heretic allowed Julian to rein him in by the shoulders. "Get these men something to drink, will you?"

Stefan shot Damon a discreet look, wondering if he was ready to surrender his patient plan for Stefan's more immediate satisfaction.

* * *

Pushing the lever to park, Bonnie shut her eyes and leaned back in her seat. Despite the confidence radiating from her in her new magical dress, she desperately wished she was in her sweatpants, a big t-shirt, swaddled in her comforter. It was funny. She had once considered this place, the Salvatore boarding house, a safe place.

Now? Not so much.

For once, she just wanted to take a page from Damon's book and selfishly stay home. She didn't want to worry about her friends, just herself. She knew she convinced Rebecca to come, but the vampire had the Salvatore brothers. What would Lily even _do_ if she hadn't showed up? The woman must know there are more important things in Bonnie's life that she needed to tend to—like her academic future or her unpainted toenails her unwatched TV shows, her neglected best friend… Actually, pretty much anything else was more important to Bonnie.

Quickly, she swiped her cell phone screen, bringing it to light. She smiled a little at her background, a picture of her, Caroline and Elena, and tapped her messaging app open. Caroline and Bonnie had been missing one another for days—the only time they were in the room at the same time was when they were so exhausted, their bodies sunk into their beds like their bones were made of rock. Returning from the boutique with Rebecca, Bonnie sent Caroline a text message about the party, and Caroline replied she was on Faux-Jo duty with Alaric and Valerie.

As she read Caroline's complaints about Valerie's terrible attitude, a new message flashed in her notification bar. She swiped to it. Damon's message was short.

 _ **Where are you?**_

Bonnie frowned. Damon didn't even ask her if she had been invited to this cocktail party. What made him think he could- A new message pushed the old one.

 _ **Damon and Stefan are busy with Operation Slay the Dragon.**_

A smile erupted on Bonnie's face. Rebecca must have swiped Damon's phone to text her. The young woman quickly replied, _**Just parked. B there in a min**_.

Tucking her cell phone into her dress's pocket, she exited the car with a sigh. Las she told Rebecca, she just wanted to show her face and then go home. Hopefully Caroline would be in the dorm, and the two could finally catch up, face to face instead of their disconnected texting conversations.

A few steps ahead of her, Bonnie noticed a dark figure with broad shoulders and a well-tailored suit. He stormed toward the door, a colorful bouquet in his clenched fist. The carefully combed hair and square jaw gave away his identity.

"Oh, whatever animal they're serving for dinner gets a plus-one?" Bonnie inquired thoughtfully as she finally matched Enzo's longer strides. The vampire shot a cursory side-glance at the petite young woman.

" _Hilarious_ ," he drawled. His accent was certainly enticing. "I was invited."

"You're scooping the competition," Bonnie countered. Enzo faltered a moment, causing a perceptive grin to part her glossed lips.

"There is no competition to scope."

He matched her short steps, but she already got to the door, leaning in to bang the knocker on the giant wooden door. Bonnie shot Enzo a brief triumphant smile, but his eye roll proved he was less amused. She sighed, tossing her hair and waited with her hands folded over her lap.

"Since you're here… if anyone's wondering, you're my _date_."

Bonnie's hair flared as her head snapped to him. Her eyebrows formed a prominent arch. "Sorry?"

The heavy door swung open before she could receive an answer—though she was sure Enzo wasn't planning on giving her one. With her green gaze still on him, she noted his features turn sultry at the sight of the hostess in red.

"Lorenzo," Lily's voice syrupy, "I am so glad you came."

Enzo held up the bouquet with a dry smile cracking his darkened features. "Wouldn't miss it." Smacking a hasty kiss to her cheek, Enzo blazed past her into the crowd. Bonnie watched with mild interest as the woman blushed and considered his gesture. Finally, remembering Bonnie's presence, Lily smile politely.

"Bonnie, I know we've had a rocky past, but I hope this means you're willing to start fresh."

Her initial reaction was to bark a laugh in the woman's face, then to bring her to her knees with a crippling loop of aneurysms. Instead, the young woman allowed a smile to tug her lips.

"You're the reason I'm never going to see my best friend again, so I _really_ hope you're joking."

The lightly delivered statement served its purpose, as Lily's curved lips drooped and pulled into a purse. Bonnie purposefully brushed past the delusional woman, her eyes searching for any familiar face in the swarm of people.

* * *

The moment she heard Lily greet Stefan, Rebecca knew she would slip from Damon's magnified attention. He spent a good hour attempting to win her back; if she had been a mere human and a stranger to the Salvatore, she would have easily melted at his attention.

But she wasn't, so she didn't.

Damon's head angled toward the familiar sound of his mother and brother's exchange, and with a briefly muttered excuse, he disappeared to confront his brother. She stopped listening as the boys' voices became more distant. She slinked through the crowd of pleasantly compelled humans enjoying the live entertainment and exquisite little appetizers.

It was nice and everything—but Rebecca needed something more filling than stuffed mushrooms.

Swiping a champagne glass from a server's balanced tray, the blonde vampire also swiped a brunette woman by the waist, leading her into a far, distantly dark corner of the kitchen.

"What's your name beautiful?"

"Um, I'm Tara." Rushing blood sloshed right beneath her tanned skin. Rebecca wet her lips in a horribly cliqued way. Tara's bobbed hair trembled as she shook her head vehemently. "Listen, I'm not into women like—"

"For tonight, let's say you're feeling adventurous." Rebecca delivered the statement through compulsion. Tara nodded, her brown eyes round as she regarded the sensual woman. "You and I are going to have a little fun…" Her mouth posed directly over Tara's, she breathed a simple command. "Just don't scream."

Tara nodded, causing Rebecca's mouth to curve into a smitten smile. The vampire tilted Tara's chin to the side; the human sighed as Rebecca's mouth ghosted down the column of her throat. Again, the blood flowing beneath the thin layer of skin flooded Rebecca's mind, and her breathe hitched. She slipped the green strap of Tara's dress down her shoulder and ran her tongue over the skin dramatically. An enamored sigh came from Tara as she leaned against the wall Rebecca trapped her between. Finally, Rebecca's face transformed into a darker version of herself. She was already salivating as she gripped Tara's arm still. Her lengthened canines sunk into Tara's indulgent skin. The blood immediately filled Rebecca's mouth, and she sighed. Tara's pleasured noise was a ghost of hers, and it took all of her self-control not to ring the human dry.

With a depressurized hiss, Rebecca's mouth finally released the woman's shoulder. Tara swayed, her eyes half-lidded, so Rebecca caught her waist, easing her onto the tile. Retrieving the glass of champagne she had abandoned on a counter, the vampire posed it in Tara's feeble grasp and dripped some of her blood into it.

"Drink." Tara did as Rebecca compelled. The messy wound from Rebecca's carnivorous mouth slowly mended. "Forget I drank your blood or I offered you mine. You had an amazing time tonight, but you had one too many to drink. You are _very_ sleepy." Tara stifled a yawn, giving Rebecca a hollow smile. Patting her face, Rebecca lifted herself from the floor. "Good girl."

"I hate to interrupt the party, but…"

Lily's voice filtered through the mutter of the party. Rebecca drifted from the kitchen, into the main room; someone offered her another glass of champagne, and she stood it blindly as her eyes trained on Lily. Genuinely happy features drew the older woman's face as she regarded the crowd.

Maybe Damon did not have to wait that long for his master plan.

"I just wanted to introduce my dearest love, Julian." She extended a hand, and a blond man stepped from the masses to Lily's side. A love-struck Lily glanced at the man she introduced, but Rebecca's throat tightened as his eyes perused the crowd. "He just returned from, shall we say, travels abroad. My family is finally complete." Rebecca's eyes fell to Lily's fingers lacing through Julian's own, the woman leaning into her lover's presence. "I hope now is that, in time, we can learn to accept each other and, together, restore this town, with its residents, to a state of peace. Cheers."

Everyone raised his or her glasses first, but Rebecca skipped straight to chugging her bubbly. She noticed Stefan and Damon exchange belligerent glances, but neither noticed her only a few feet away. Her gaze finally back to the stage, but Lily was already in front of her.

"Lovely speech," the young vampire commented, allowing a server to take her empty glass. "Your sons seemed to enjoy your little introduction."

"Speaking of my sons, you look a little disappointed they aren't showering you in their affections anymore." Lily started through the crowd, and Rebecca followed her lead.

"You _would_ see it that way."

"How do they feel about your… undead being?" Lily inquired lightly, smiling widely at two of her female Heretic "children". The ones Rebecca had fooled in Alaric's apartment and at the Halloween dance. The more rigid one narrowed her eyes with disdain as Rebecca wiggled her fingers at them.

"If you're asking if they're happy I'm a vampire, I'm sure no vampire would ever wish this life on anyone they care about."

"You assume they still care for you."

Rebecca folded her arms across her chest with a grimace pulling her lips. "Why don't you just _really_ speak your mind, _Mrs. Salvatore_."

The mirth in Lily's light eyes suddenly disappeared, and her stare was cold and calculating. Rebecca's own gaze matched her elder's lead; she even jutted her chin out confidently. An abrupt ominous smile spread across Lily's face.

"Do they know _how_ you died and came back a monster?"

"No, and neither do I."

" _My_ boys believed _that_?" Lily scoffed, tossing her glossy hair over her shoulder. "Darling, you ought to sleep with one eye open. Damon, especially, will be less forgiving when he stumbles upon your web of lies."

"Ah, and how much _more_ will he hate _you_ for keeping this secret as well?" Rebecca challenged. Lily's cold eyes narrowed. "Oh, _Lily_ ," Rebecca's sigh sounded more like a hiss. "I certainly do _not_ miss these 'maternal' talks."

Rebecca strutted away from the older vampire, knowing the stunt would leave Lily fuming. Rebecca's darkened gaze skimmed the crowd as she entered another room. Maybe she'd grab another… _snack._ By the fireplace, she noticed Julian's rigid form shaking the hand of a handsome man. From the masks of pleasantries, it was clearly some masculine confrontation. Julian's smile was confident, and the other man's was polite, submissive. Rebecca's eye twitched.

A small figure sidled next to Rebecca as her gaze remained unashamed on the showdown. A whiff of honey and coconut oil, coupled with a nudge, confirmed Bonnie Bennett's presence.

"Spying on two people you don't know is kind of creepy," Bonnie commented. "Especially if one is a homicidal maniac and the other only half a step less demented.

"Which is which?"

Rebecca felt Bonnie's gaze swing up, and she granted a quick glance at the smirking witch and her glittery green gaze. Rebecca's eyes gathered Bonnie's petite frame in the blue dress. Bonnie arched a brow, to which Rebecca's light eyes shone keenly.

"That dress was _made_ for you, Miss Bennett." Bonnie blushed, running her hands down the dress affectionately. Rebecca smiled at the genuine reaction.

"It _does_ seem that way," the witch murmured. "You, though, look drop-dead gorgeous."

"Emphasis on the _dead_."

Bonnie produced an undignified snort. "You are _seriously_ showing up every woman in this house right now." Rebecca waved a dismissive hand as her features contorted with absurdity.

"There's actually _nothing_ glamorous or beautiful about being turned into a monster by a little magic and a whole of lot blood."

Rebecca felt Bonnie's eyes cut into her face, scrutinizing her for her dark statement. Rebecca's own gaze, however, flitted to Julian and the other man again. Julian was gone. "Are you all right?" Bonnie mustered.

"Yeah…" The other man was peering at her curiously; his gaze shifted to the little witch next to her. "Peachy. Incoming—handsome vampire with his eyes set on _you_ ," the vampire tilted her head to the man's approach.

* * *

Enzo smiled at the stranger's warning to Bonnie as he glided through the compelled humans to the witch and her tall blonde company. Bonnie arched a brow at him, and his jaw set at her sassy regard.

"It's called…" the petite young lady clicked her tongue as she pretended to find the right word, " _dignity_. Have some, it's _free_."

"Oh, what I got in return was priceless," he replied lowly. His eyes traveled down the long, wine-colored dress of the half-turned blonde. She had stepped a few feet away from them, suddenly nursing a strong drink. His voice dropped as he added, "Julian is looking for Oscar's car… I intend to find it first."

Bonnie's emerald eyes glittered with recognition as they slid past his shoulder. Her slender fingers slid up Enzo's tie slowly, her gaze burning into his chest. His eyes fell on her royal blue dress—it fell and curved at the desirable places—before lifting them to study her concentration. Enzo breathed a nervous chuckle, wondering if Bonnie knew exactly what she was doing to him.

"What are you doing?"

"Lily is watching," she nearly purred. She bit her lip for a moment before adding, "I am fixing your tie, like any good date. That's what you wanted… right? To make her a little… _jealous_."

He felt her eyes drop to his mouth before zipping back up to pierce his gaze. The muscles in his face betrayed his attempt to diffuse the highly sensual situation.

"Maybe a little." His thick confession made him cringe internally. He watched his breath make her eyelashes dance. Should he...?

The blonde woman next to them cleared her throat. Enzo blinked a few times, and Bonnie's stifling gaze brightened immediately. She turned to the woman's amused expression. Her eyebrows arched as her eyes passed between Enzo and Bonnie.

"If you were aiming for jealousy, I am sure anyone with eyes is, at least, a slight shade of green," Rebecca commented lowly. She smirked, her eyes flitting down Enzo's attire. "Including myself."

"This is Rebecca," Bonnie introduced with a small smile. "Becca, this is Enzo."

"Lorenzo," he corrected gently. He took Rebecca hand and pressed his lips to her knuckles. "It is a pleasure to meet you."

"I know," Rebecca retorted loftily. Bonnie pursed her lips to hide a smile. Enzo's eyes narrowed as Rebecca's gold ones flashed with a familiar mischief. "If you're competing with Julian, by the way, I don't know how successful you'll be."

"Competing?"

"For Lily's affections." She tugged on her earlobe, indicating she had heard the exchange between him and Bonnie.

Enzo's mouth tilted sardonically. "And what would you know about Julian, darling?"

For a second, Enzo saw her flat expression split; her glowing gaze widened a fraction, probably unseen by Bonnie, but Enzo noticed the brief panic. Immediately, her eyes slitted. "Absence makes the heart grow fonder—you've _clearly_ been groveling at Lily's feet while Julian spent a century in a coffin."

"Now, how could you have _possibly_ known that small morsel of information?"

As if she knew Enzo was onto her, searching for her raw reaction, she rolled her eyes, trying to catch Bonnie's eye. The young witch, however, kept her eyes on her folded hands. Rebecca's lips parted in a threatening smile, proving she knew his little game.

"People have been talking. I've just been listening."

Enzo hummed. He noticed Bonnie's frown; she wanted to know why he didn't believe her friend. Was Bonnie Bennett already fiercely loyal to the vampire he had never met before? Does that mean she was a _new_ friend of Bonnie's? Of the Salvatores? Enzo turned his attention to the petite young lady awkwardly listening to the heated conversation.

Unlike the little witch, Enzo knew his effect on women, having mastered the art of smoldering. His muggy attention fell on her, and a deep sigh filled her chest, despite her cool exterior.

"Anyway, I got what I came for. You ladies have a nice night." With a cursory glance, Enzo reveled in the idea of finding out who this fiery Rebecca was. Her lips curled into a small yet hungry grin, as if she read his mind.

* * *

There was no one at fault for Caroline's mandatory stroll to Alaric's apartment—no one actually knew the Phoenix Stone was _not_ for resurrecting the dead or that a random vampire's soul would get stuffed into Jo's body. Yet, there was a slight _twinge_ in Caroline's chest. Bonnie was sashaying around the boarding house, and she was stuck on campus. She hadn't gotten into a dress, a _real_ dress in ages.

"Why are you pouting?"

Caroline shot a dark look over at Valerie. Along with overseeing the Alaric-Jo dilemma, she was still on Heretic babysitting duty. It was just _great_ , especially when Valerie glanced at Caroline's face with the smug satisfaction of a secret she shared with Stefan. Caroline wasn't prone to actual violence, but there was a wrath rising in her like steam. And she was ready to erupt.

"I'm still stuck with you, aren't I?"

Her comment seemed to amuse Valerie; despite the scold, Valerie's mouth curved into a devious smile as she continued walking with her head held high. Caroline rolled her eyes and checked her cell phone. Her eyes flashed at all of her notifications—all but one from Bonnie. The other was from Stefan, admitting he missed her. She swiped it into oblivion. He could have, at least, invited her.

Bonnie's messages were mainly pictures. The first was of her new gorgeous dress. She looked like a goddess; Caroline grinned at the silly poses Bonnie made as she snapped photos of herself in the mirror. Another picture was of Rebecca's tight-lipped smile as an arm wrapped around her stomach and the other elbow resting on it as she held up a glass of champagne. Bonnie even sent a photo of Damon and Stefan, arguing, from afar. Caroline zoomed in on Stefan and sighed. She hated this dissonance between them.

The last message was, surprisingly, of Bonnie and Enzo. Caroline could only guess Rebecca had taken it. A silent message between the two blondes that Bonnie was _getting it_. Caroline had never seen him in a suit before.

 _ **I can see why you liked Enzo.**_

A hand flew to Caroline's mouth. After Rebecca had vaguely explained her _thing_ with Damon in the past, Caroline had gone into her long love history, including those who didn't make the "official" cut. Biting back a smile, Caroline replied, _**All the deets RIGHT NOW**_ **.**

"Which apartment is his?" Valerie's annoying voice interrupted Caroline's girlish thoughts. The younger vampire's head snapped up before rolling her eyes and pushing past Valerie's lead, to Alaric apartment. With a heavy knock and Alaric's clear ' _it's open_ ' over the lung Jo was coughing up, Caroline entered with Valerie trailing behind her.

She faltered at Alaric's bedroom door. Jo's body was a sliver in a sea of blankets. Her translucent eyes were half-lidded; her eyebrows dropped as she coughed violently again. Caroline glanced at Alaric's hunched body in a chair by the bed; his profile was contorted with sympathetic pain.

"Her nose started to bleed, and then… _that_ started." Alaric punctuated his explanation with a gesture toward his wife's spastic coughing.

"Oh, here." Caroline pierced her wrist with a long canine and sat next to Jo, offering her arm. "Take my blood." Caroline watched Jo's panicked eyes switch to Alaric, but Caroline shoved her arm closer to Jo's mouth. "Drink, it'll _heal_ you."

Jo took Caroline's limb as the wound began to close and sucked as much blood as she could before the hole in Caroline's wrist mended. It seemed to work—hope filled the room—until Jo's body pitched to the side of the bed, vomiting into a metal trash bin. Caroline frowned at the retching woman.

"Or not?"

"What the hell is wrong with her?" Alaric twisted his body to meet Valerie's eyes. He was desperate. Caroline followed his gaze reluctantly. Of course, Valerie would have answers. The Heretic leaned against the doorframe with crossed arms and amusement embossed onto her face.

"Seems a vampire soul inside a _human_ body does not a perfect match make," Valerie replied archaically. Caroline's jaw set at the same smug tone she used earlier.

"What does that mean?"

Alaric and Caroline snapped back at the sound of Jo's groveled voice. A thin sheen of sweat covered her hollowed face, crawling through the roots of her hair. What Alaric couldn't hear was the sluggish thud of Jo's heartbeat and the feeble sound of Jo's lungs as they struggled to expand.

Unaffected, Valerie rambled on. "The Phoenix Stone traps _vampire_ souls. Oscar had a vampire _body_ , got some other vampire's soul, and he lost the plot. Jo was a _human_. Clearly, a basic human body is unable to contain the essence of a vampire soul. You add that together, carry the one…" Valerie's eyes glittered at her own joke, "You're a decomposing mess."

Caroline's lips curled into a hard line as Alaric and Jo looked at each other, dismay matching panic. Caroline took ahold of Valerie's arm and dragged her out of the room with force only a vampire could withhold. The vampire's voice dropped into a pressured hiss as she snapped, "Thank you, Valerie! Your tact is _wildly_ appreciated!"

Valerie scoffed. "I was just saying that she was a corpse who was meant to _stay_ a corpse." Caroline could pluck those rolling eyes right out of Valerie's skull.

"We _know_. We _heard_ you," Caroline seethed. Valerie's flippant use of _corpse_ made Caroline insane. Caroline didn't get a chance to know Jo as well as anyone else, and it made her insanely guilty thinking about the reason. While Jo was finally integrating into their makeshift family, Caroline selfishly barreled downward in her own humanity-off spiral. She had tried to make it up, by coordinating the wedding, but… Caroline's eyes flashed at Valerie. "But that corpse was supposed to be Ric's _wife_ , who died with _two kids_ inside of her, on their _wedding day_!"

Valerie's sardonic features softened. Her eyes widened as Caroline mentioned Jo's pregnancy and implication of Alaric's ruined future. The Heretic lowered her eyes for a moment.

"Sorry… I-I had no idea"

Caroline's blue gaze flitted over the witch-vampire with hardened features. "Yeah, well, now you do. So, just… sit down _quietly_ , while he says goodbye."

* * *

Huh." Stefan flipped a switch as the brothers wandered into the large room. "Where the hell's your TV?"

His demand echoed in the slightly under-decorated master bedroom. Although he was curious, his pitched voice was extra frothy—another attempt to change Damon's mind, to side with him and kill Julian tonight. His older brother, however, stared wide-eyed at the lack of his belongings in his former room.

"Where's my _bed_?" cried the older Salvatore.

"Wow," Stefan drawled. Spotting something he hadn't seen in years—a _phonogram_ —Stefan walked to the corner of the room and cranked the lever. He grinned as the dated music filled the room. "Looks like _Lily_ took over your bedroom. And I'll bet your old flat-screen that Julian is not sleeping in the guest quarters."

He glanced over in time to see Damon's bewilderment, eyes fixed on a pair of lacy blue panties at the end of a fencing sword he wielded. Stefan's expression was less twisted than the horror on his brother's face.

"Here I thought she slept standing up like a _horse_."

Sidestepping formalities, Stefan's voice was unyielding as he finally stated, "You need to help me kill him or you need to leave."

Damon whipped the undergarment around in front of Stefan's face. "Do you know what this _means_?" Stefan pursed his lips and grabbed the lace article before throwing it down. "It means Mom is _happy_!" Damon hissed, lunging closer to his brother. "Another couple of months of this, she'll have convinced herself its _forever_ —and _that's_ when we strike, Stefan!"

"Look at your _bedroom_!" Stefan gestured around the room. He would admit Damon's style had been much better than _this_ layout. "Our _house_ is unrecognizable! Lily needs to _go_ , and killing Julian is the start of that!"

"You _know_ something." Stefan pursed his lips as Damon stepped forward and eyed his younger brother perceptively. "Look at you— _murdery,_ vengeful. It's very 'humanity-off' Stefan, _except_ your switch is intact. Which _means_ you know something, so spit it out!"

Stefan scrutinized Damon's flared nostrils and furrowed brow. If he had known Valerie had been pregnant, he would have written to Damon right away. Damon would always be the first persona he would want to share any information with—he was his brother, his on-again and off-again friend through the centuries. But what would he say? How could he even phrase it? Damon was flippant and nonchalant, and the last thing Stefan needed was Damon shrugging off the importance of his confession.

"It's not my secret to tell, Damon."

"Oh really?" Damon challenged with narrowed eyes.

Both vampires turned to the only human heartbeat entering the room. Matt Donavon, Stefan's only true ally for the night.

" _So_ ," Matt drawled drunkenly. "Nora showed me where they keep the _good_ stuff."

Stefan nearly smiled as Matt raised a bottle to his lopsided smirk. Damon tossed his foil and advanced toward the young man with a predatory gaze. The bottle clearly had Damon's name of it, and that was why Stefan told Matt to find the exact bottle to flaunt.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa— _hang on_." Damon swiped the bottle away from Matt's mouth, causing alcohol to drip down Matt's shirt and tie. "Does this bottle say 'Default Deputy'? No." Damon bit. "No, it says 'Damon's Good Stuff—Do Not Touch'!"

Damon's eyes flashed greedily as he tilted the bottle up to his mouth with a smirk toward his brother. Stefan waited and watched as his brother suddenly fell to his knees sputtering and spitting up blood. Damon's widened gaze pleaded, but Stefan nodded behind him. Matt plunged a needle into Damon's neck, injecting him with more vervain.

"Take Bonnie," Stefan muttered to the human, his eyes trained on his brother's unconscious body. "Get out of here. It's about to get ugly."

* * *

 **Ooh mystery! Suspense! A lot of sensual moments too. Tbh, this chapter was a bit of a filler, but at the same time, setting the scene for some juicy details. Yay…!**

 **Hope you enjoyed! Send me your thoughts!**

 **xo,**

 **glass27doll**


	18. The Cocktail Party: Part II

**A/N: Hey everyone! Here's the update! Things are little hectic (I almost typed Heretic lol) for me as of late, so bear with me, please.**

 **Thanks for all support (favorites, follows, reviews) thus far. For those who reviewed last, I replied at the end.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own any of the TVD characters/plotlines/dialogue. I only own the Suttons and their storylines.**

* * *

 **Chapter 16**

Cocktail Party: Part II

A figure covered in flowing green cloth sprawled in the corner of the kitchen floor. Enzo frowned, eyeing the woman asleep on the tile. She was clearly human. Her hand loosely held an empty champagne glass. The vampire sighed as he crouched in front of her, first to check her pulse, and then, to rearrange her limbs modestly.

"Sweetheart, wake _up_ ," his singsong request gritted through his teeth. He patted her slack face; her head just drooped to the side, and her lips parted in an undignified manner. Enzo's face contorted with mild disgust. " _Jesus_ , woman, how much did you have to _drink_?"

"Her blood-alcohol level was only slightly spiked…" Enzo twisted to see Bonnie's unfamiliar friend, the blonde woman in the wine colored dress. Her gaze blazed as he stood to face her. Again, she was clutching a glass containing something as light as her eyes. "After that, she had a glass of bubbly, and a dose of… well, _me_."

"You…" Enzo searched her expression curiously. "You _fed_ on her?"

"Oh, sorry, I thought you knew I was a vampire," Rebecca's face crumpled into false concern. Enzo's lips pursed. "Should we reintroduce ourselves? Hi, I'm—"

"I knew you were a vampire but…" Enzo snapped, causing a girlish smile to slink across the woman's face. Suddenly, he glanced over her shoulder, checking if Lily had magically overheard their conversation. "Lily will have your _head_ , if—"

"Oh, no—not _Lily_!" Rebecca's eyes widened with feigned horror. Enzo's dark gaze tapered as she erupted in giggles. "Honey, I could not care less if Lily found out I took a _little bitsy_ bite from one of her delicious guests."

"Well, you should care," he countered lamely.

"As _you_ do?" Mischief flashed in her heated gaze. "Using Bonnie to make Lily _jealous_? Even _if_ you riled her, what did you think would happen?" Something darker shadowed the mischief as her word sunk into a scowl. "She's extremely devoted to Julian, if you hadn't noticed from this little shindig."

"Then why did _you_ show up?"

"Honestly?" Rebecca shrugged with a vague gesture. "It boils down to boredom." She invaded his personal space, adding in a throaty voice, "I just needed a _distraction_."

"And I suppose that's supposed to be me?" Enzo inquired with a raised eyebrow. She raised one back, her smolder still intact. Enzo scoffed, pushing her back by the shoulders. "Does this usually work—this whole 'intimidate-and-insult' dance?"

"Actually, yes, it does." A mocking smile cut across her face. "But I suppose your taste is _aged_ and more… _experienced._ " Enzo's jaw tightened as Rebecca smirked. "Or, perhaps, your taste is more… _mocha_? It's certainly not impossible to enjoy both—"

"Who _are_ you?" Enzo exasperated suddenly. A tight smile curled on Rebecca's lips, but he raised a hand to stop her next smart remark. "I know your name, _Rebecca_ , but _who_ are you? Why are you here? _How_ are you here, in Mystic Falls? You _must_ have seen the signs…" Rebecca's jaw was set as he ventured. "You're friends with Bonnie, so maybe you met her at Whitmore? And you're a vampire, so…" The older vampire gave her flat expression a calculated once over. The corner of his mouth kicked up. "The Salvatore brothers—of _course_. You're here because of _them_ , which makes sense, considering your hostility toward Lily."

"Hostility implies I _care_ even an ounce." Enzo's eyes flashed with victory. She noticed with a frown. "But, for your information, _yes_ , I knew Stefan and Damon many years ago."

"And Lily," he added roguishly. Her lips pursed. "Interesting… You know, I always thought vampires with the same creator were just _drawn_ together—"

"Lily didn't turn me." Enzo's brow creased at Rebecca's proud declaration. "And, generally, even if she did, you and I wouldn't _just_ band together."

"Generally," he echoed. "And what circumstances would we have?"

"Such a shame you don't know about your own species." Rebecca tilted her drink all the way back and sighed. "Certainly, you know of the sire-bond."

"Obviously."

"Just checking," she murmured, raising her hands in defense. " _That_ bond is strong enough to draw the sired vampire together—no matter where the creator vampire is." Her pale lips pressed together for a minute. "If the will is strong enough…" she gestured for him to continue the thought.

"Ah." Enzo closed in on her, close enough to see his reflection in her light eyes. "And to who are _you_ sired to?"

Her warm gaze grew cold. It fractured as if he had taken a hammer to a thick sheet of glass. His breathed question was not strong enough to shatter whatever she was barricading, but it started to weigh on her fragile truth.

"Oh, my apologies, I didn't mean to interrupt—"

Both vampires turned to the new person in the kitchen. Enzo's gaze fell away from Julian's genuine excuse, noting Rebecca's tension.

"You haven't interrupted anything," assured the composed Enzo. He sidestepped Rebecca. "I was just on my way out."

"Oh… shouldn't you stay 'til the end?" His gaze was dangerous as he continued the façade. Lily _must_ have pointed him out in the crowd, even if it was to laugh about how hopelessly in love with her he was. "Isn't that your _job_?"

"Lily has hired a competent staff," Enzo countered with a sharp smile. Julian returned it with slitted eyes, munching on a stuffed mushroom from one of the many trays littering the counter. The eldest vampire's gaze trailed to Rebecca's silent figure oddly close to Enzo. Her predatory confidence seemed to recoil.

"I don't believe we've met." Julian extended a hand. "I am Julian."

"I know," Rebecca managed to say. She swallowed, producing a polite smile. "I am Rebecca, Rebecca Sutton."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Becca." Julian's smile should have been considered charming, but Rebecca stood rigidly.

Enzo's mouth twitched at the interaction. Rebecca slipped her hand from Julian's and scurried out of the room, her excuse being she had to find Bonnie. However, both Enzo and Rebecca knew, by the absences of honey wafting through the boarding house, the witch had left long ago.

* * *

In the kitchen, Stefan's eyes trained on Julian's lone shadowed figure by the counter. He reached into his jacket, gripping the stake he had carved earlier in the day with his moment in mind. As he shuffled through the crowd of mindless humans, a retreating body collided with his. A windless protest and flare of blonde finally tore his attention away from his target.

"Oh, Stefan." Rebecca's nostril flared as she leveled her breathing; Stefan briefly wondered why she was panting, but his eyes flitted over her shoulder to see if his enemy was still snacking in the kitchen. Rebecca's grip on his arms switched his attention back to her relieved face. "I've been—"

"Damon's in the master bedroom," his voice a low whisper in her ear as he detached her hands, "and he's unconscious. Go make sure he's all right."

"What happened, Stefan? What did you—"

"Becca, just go check on him; if you can, keep him there."

"What are you going to—"

"Rebecca, please—leave _now_."

Stefan felt her hard glare, and he knew she wanted to stay and make sure he didn't do something reckless, but he didn't have time for her oddly placed sense of responsibility for him. Rebecca had been out of his life for years, she shouldn't feel obligated to protect him. Stupid or not, Stefan needed to end Julian's life, tonight, like he ended Stefan's unborn child's life. With a brief glance, Stefan saw her anger as she gathered her dress and rushed in the direction he had come from.

The younger Salvatore squared his shoulders as she left, eyes narrowing at his target. His strides into the room were silent. His presence was undetected until his hand gripped Julian's shoulder and spun him around.

Now or never.

Swiftly, Stefan plunged the stake into the older vampire's chest. He missed the heart, purposefully, aiming for the most pain and injury a vampire could sustain.

"My brother told the story wrong," Stefan stated lightly, referring to the poorly woven tale Damon had told earlier. Julian's face was red and veiny as he struggled to breathe.

Stefan slammed Julian's body onto the refrigerator across the room, bracing an arm across Julian's chest as the other shoved the stake deeper. Julian reached to crush Stefan's throat, but the younger vampire slammed his head into Julian's to distract him. Using as much force as he could, Stefan threw the man to the other side of the room. Julian's body slid right into the live fireplace, and Stefan watched with panting satisfaction as the vampire agonized loudly.

Someone in red strolled through the doorway. Stefan's eyes darted to his mother as she recognized the screams of her beloved; her features switched from light to dark in a matter of seconds. Without pausing, she grabbed a tablecloth and extinguished the fire shrouding Julian's writhing body. Her hands patted Julian's burnt body with care, worry etched onto her face.

Her hair flared as her head whipped round. There was nothing maternal or warm about the glare she pinned Stefan with as she rose to feet. Stefan's eyes switched to Julian gaining his balance and ripping the embedded stake from his body.

"What did I do," Lily's voice welled though her expression was void, "to make you _hate_ me so much?"

"This is not about you," Stefan's darkened gaze fixed on Julian's recovery, taunting the older vampire to explain why Stefan was hell bent on ending him.

"Not about me?" Lily's shrill counter paired with her watery eyes and her creased brow. Stefan's eyes shifted over to her for a moment. His mother had always been fragile when it came to her sons' affections. "Ever since I've been back, all you've done is try to strip me of my happiness. Answer me, Stefan—what did I do wrong?"

It was Julian's turn to leer spitefully.

* * *

"Dare I ask what was so important…?"

Bonnie watched Matt's pinched expression as he parked in the student parking lot. The question had been burning in her mind, feeling like a fever, while she sat in Matt's truck, waiting for him to return; when he slammed the driver's side door, he didn't offer any explanation, rambling about the possibilities of the young man and the high school.

"I own all of the vervain for Mystic Falls now," he stated. He glanced over to see her prompting raised eyebrow. "Stefan needed some."

"For Julian," Bonnie concluded. She sighed, pressing her cold hands to her overheating face. "Damon wanted to wait for Lily to be _happy_ before they got rid of Julian—why wouldn't he tell me what they were planning… and why is Stefan asking for—"

"Actually, Bon," Matt interrupted gently, "he wanted for _Damon_." Bonnie's attention snapped up to her only human friend left. "Damon was going to get in the way of killing Julian _tonight_ , and—"

"Matt, listen. I _know_ you and Damon have this tenuous—"

"No, Bonnie, it's not—" Matt's chest filled with a deep sigh. "It's one less _vampire_ , Bonnie."

The glint of anger in Bonnie's eyes faded. The car was silent. Matt actively hated vampires—apparently enough to own all the vervain of the town. She should have known better than to think he wouldn't jump on any bandwagon that involved ridding his town— _their_ town—of the demons lurking the shadows.

"Next time, just… don't hurt Damon." Bonnie's voice was weary, but her threat was clear. She sighed. "Let's just go and make sure this kid is okay."

The two exited Matt's car; Bonnie noticed he had parked in the corner of the lot, his spot junior and senior year. She glanced at him with a small smile, but he was already looking at her, sharing the knowing smile.

"Maybe after this, we can grab something to eat," Matt offered casually, opening the school's front door for her. "I'm starving."

Her green gaze swept over to his shadowed face in the dark halls. She and Matt used to be close growing up, especially when he dated Elena and the three hung out after school. Since her plunge into the supernatural world, she had neglected her only normal, human connection. She smiled kindly.

"Sure. I am, too, actually."

Memories covered every wall, every door, every corner… Bonnie brushed her fingers against the cool metal of her old locker as she passed. She caught up with Matt and stayed only two steps behind him at all times. He wielded their only flashlight, and she watched his crooked arm hover over his hip—no doubt over his wooden-bullet-stocked weapon. She vaguely wondered if he had anticipated something like this happening tonight.

Carefully, Matt opened a classroom door and scanned the empty desks before declaring it ' _clear_ ' under his breath. Bonnie was probably breathing down his neck by the time he edged away from the door, but she was anxious and the proximity was comforting. The two wandered down the hall, turning a corner. Bonnie noticed the trophy case, littered with years of football and cheerleader memorabilia. Her young face, along with Caroline's and Elena's, smiled through the glass.

Something rattled behind them. Bonnie jolted next to Matt; he already had his gun in his hand, pointed to the threat. Her own weapon—her magic—tingled at her fingertips, a curse posed on her tongue. The same young man from the party, the one with a mechanical inquiry about the high school, walked and wheeled an IV infusion pole.

"Hey, hey," Matt's voice echoed harshly against the linoleum. "What are you doing here?"

Instead of answering, the young man's unfocused eyes stayed forward as he shuffled between the two and down the hall. Bonnie's brow creased.

"He did actually _see_ us, didn't he?"

Matt's hard-pressed frown met her own set features as the two followed the human quietly. Matt posed his gun again, like Bonnie had seen in movies and on TV—he really looked like a police officer. When their target disappeared into a room, Matt followed cautiously, his gun held with white knuckles. He swung into the room and immediately frowned at the scene his spotlight offered. Bonnie stood in the doorway with the same reaction.

A sea of humans sat in the dark room, staring into oblivion, hooked up to IVs.

Matt flashed his light into the eyes of the closest person, and Bonnie noticed the random man's pupils shrink.

"All right, everyone," Matt announced with a professional patience. His gun was away, and his free hand was above his head in surrender and peace. "Please stand up; we're going to get you out of here, okay?"

When no one moved, Matt went through the same motions with another front desk participant. He snapped in front of a young woman's face, but her expression is unflinching.

"It's not going to work, Matt," Bonnie's voice was a husky whisper from the full night. Matt glanced at her scrunched features. "Someone compelled them to be here."

* * *

As he had staggered to his feet, Damon's unfocused vision sharpened around Rebecca's red figure rushing into his former bedroom. He had barely looked at her, blinded by revenge on his brother's tag-teamed efforts—with _Matt Donovan_ of all the people on the damn _planet_ —to get him out of the way. He had shaken her steadying hands, but now, he faltered when she yanked him back and spun him to face her.

Her jaw was set as she studied him. He could hear the nervous pace of her heart as her eyes darted toward the kitchen doorway.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Damon?" She searched his eyes hopefully. "Why don't you just let Stefan _end_ this?"

"Because there's no _poetry_ about it, Beck," he replied with a twisted smirk. His face loomed a few inches away from her blank expression. There was a small flicker of concern. He disregarded it. "If Stefan kills Julian now, how will Lily learn her lesson?"

"And when will you learn yours, Damon?" Her exasperated counter gritted through her teeth. Her sharp gaze was uncomfortable. "Some people will never learn— _don't_ be one of them!"

Damon's anger quieted. He had to do this, for Elena. His eternal love deserved to be avenged. Rebecca, as if she could read his mind, took a deep breath. Her heart steadied as her hand fell from his arm.

"I need to do this, Beck." His gaze dropped from hers, vaguely focused on the wedding band around her neck. Damon was supposed to take the Cure with Elena, be with her until their happy human lives ran out. "If you don't want to be part of it, I understand. You can leave too."

She bit her lip, probably running through all the excuses she could offer him, but he didn't wait for one. They both knew, if she wanted to, she would be by his side.

Damon entered the kitchen and surveyed the situation. Lily's hardened glare swung from her youngest son to her eldest. He had never seen her that angry. Julian's face was blotchy, reeking of fire and soot. It didn't take much to realize what happened once Damon's attention was drawn to the bloody stake still in Julian's hand. Stefan sighed with defeat as the corner of Damon's mouth kicked up.

"Well, I see Stefan's plan went swimmingly," Damon announced lightly. The room filled with a familiar sweet fragrance. Damon smirked, tilting his head toward Rebecca. "Probably explains why the fake guests are leaving."

"The party was boring anyways," came her nonchalant reply. Damon smirked again, glancing at Stefan's piercing stare and then to Lily. Her eyes, however, were fixed on Rebecca's cool expression.

"Sit down, _all_ of you." Lily's mouth settled into a firm line as she regarded each of them pointedly.

"Oh, well, we wouldn't want to wear out our welcome." Damon forced a laugh. He grabbed his brother by the shoulders, digging his fingers deep, trying to usher him toward Rebecca. "Brother, let's hit the road… the lady is _tired_." On cue, Rebecca faked a dramatic yawn.

"Sit down, Son." Julian's gaze steadied on Damon as he stepped in front of the retreating brothers. His eyes traveled from one man to the other and founded their way to Rebecca. "Or I will seat you myself."

Rebecca was the first to move, stiffly sitting on a stool. The brothers shared a glance—who the hell did this man this he was?—before joining her. Julian produced the Phoenix Stone from his pocket, tossing it up and catching it. Damon glared as Julian turned to regard his literal captivate audience.

"Over a hundred years inside of this thing," Julian began, holding the pinched Stone for the three to view. "Although, in this—my own _custom_ -made hell—time is meaningless.

Julian violently tore his jacket off his arms. Damon glanced at Lily's averted eyes and worry drawn features. Memories of Giuseppe flooded his mind, cued by the theatrics and speech. His eyes darted to Rebecca's stiff back next to Stefan.

"The pain—the _emptiness_ —the complete lack of humanity is quite literally endless." The preamble paused as Julian studied the stake covered in his blood. "No, every day is the same—I try to escape but, instead, I end up killing the person that I love the most." Julian pointed the stake over to Lily. Every gaze followed to meet Lily's round blue eyes. "Every day. Over _and_ over again. I drive a stake through your mother. It is almost enough to turn even the soundest mind mad, _but_ when you're over four hundred and seventy-five years old, you learn a thing or two about yourself." Very like their father to toss in how much power he had over them. "'This' couldn't be real because I would _never_ bring harm to your mother. Hell was playing tricks on me, hmm?" Julian tapped his temple with the wooden weapon. "It was trying to break me, but no, I wouldn't let it because _I knew_ that if I _did_ snap… _oh,_ no, no." Julian leaned against the counter behind him.

Only able to see the side of his brother's face, Damon knew this little speech was only solidifying Stefan's determination. In fact, it was nearly swaying Damon's own resolve.

"I wouldn't be a man. I'd be a _monster_."

With a sharp sound, a knife sailed past Damon's face, embedding into the wall directly above Rebecca's head. Stefan searched Rebecca for any harm, but her gaze was on her lap. Damon noticed her body tremble.

"Julian!"

"Your _children_ ," he expelled the word like it was poison, "have no respect for you!" His eyes fell on Rebecca with a grimace. "And their pet—"

Instead of finishing his sentence, he launched the stake at Stefan, but the youngest vampire caught it with a scowl. He lunged to shoulder Julian's stomach, but the older vampire flipped him and threw him into the glass cabinets across the room. Despite Lily's urgent protests, Julian flashed over and laid heavy punches to Stefan's cowering form.

"Knock it _off_ ," Damon gritted. He flashed over, managing to pull Julian away from his brother, but Julian's stagger lasted for seconds before lifting Damon and smashing him into the counter. Damon's body tumbled onto the ground; he felt the force of Julian's foot knock the wind out of him.

Suddenly, the repetitive pain was gone. He heard Stefan's pained groans for a moment until he let out a final whine. Damon peered through a slowly healing eye and witnessed Rebecca's fist land a few efficient punches. Immediately, Julian took her by the throat, his fingers crushing her windpipe. Her feet no longer touched the floor as a gurgle escaped her lips. Damon reached to put Julian's foot from beneath him, but Stefan was already on his feet and reached his hand into Julian's back. Rebecca crumpled onto the ground next to Damon, and he noticed something alarming. Tears coated her contorted face as her eyelids pressed shut.

"Julian! _Julian_!"

Lily caught her lover's shoulder before he could end Stefan's life swiftly and spun him around. His poised arm to stake Stefan was perched over Lily's heart, nearly plunged into her chest.

Damon couldn't see either vampire's face, but the way his mother's stern voice quivered threw him back to overheard arguments between his parents.

"Boys, out. _Now._ " There was a promise to address what happened later hidden in her tone, but Damon staggered to his feet as Stefan pulled Rebecca onto hers.

* * *

Alaric's eyes never parted from his wife's face. She was not his wife, just another soul occupying the empty vessel of her body, but her face enraptured his gaze nonetheless. Her mouth curved as she blinked languidly.

"What?" he prompted, his own lips tugging upward. She sighed.

"I wonder what WedMD would have to say about me now," she managed to say. Her breathing was shaky, but her playful smile was steady, and her mirthful tone was unmistakable.

"It's probably best not to find out." Alaric chuckled, thumbing the back of her hand in his. Her small smile faded as her brow creased.

"A woman… was wielding a sword that pierced my heart." Jo's rasps were swallowed by the space between them. Alaric leaned forward to meet them. "The blade was metal… it shouldn't have been able to kill me, but… it did."

Alaric's eyebrows fell in confusion. "Did you just remember this?" His wife's mouth tilted again, into a soft and sad smile. She nodded slowly and carefully.

"I also remembered my name… I think I'm Florence."

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Florence." The corners of his mouth ticked up, but he pressed his lips together immediately. Despite the emotion welling in his chest, in his throat, Alaric's gaze did not fall away from Florence's fading one. "I am _so_ sorry that I put you through this," he croaked. A soft smile lifted the woman's face; she understood that his sudden feelings were misplaced.

"It's okay." The compassion filling her voice was enough to break his heart. He looked down at their entwined fingers, and his brow creased as his eyes filled with exasperating tears. "I know you want your wife back… I'm sorry I'm not her." Alaric couldn't hold back his grief any longer. "I wish I was—she was a lucky woman." Jo's voice admitting these affirmations caused him to cry harder. "You would have been an amazing husband."

"It's been so nice…" Alaric choked, trying to regain some composure but lost. "It's been _so_ nice to hear her voice again. Thank you… thank you for allowing me to say goodbye."

Though her grip had been weak, he could feel her fingers tighten around his. His eyes met hers—his cheeks both wet and blotchy. Her features were pensive as she watched his pursed mouth try to contain his sobs.

"Goodbye, Ric," her final words whispered into the room.

Alaric let out a tremendous sob. Again, he was losing his wife. Despite the heart-wrenching pain, he could admit there was closure in seeing her once more, being able to hold her hand as she faded into her oblivion. He reached forward and shut her eyelids. The tears that had accumulated in her eyes spilled down her cooling cheeks, causing another wave of emotion. He kissed her forehead and gripped her hand, though he knew she couldn't hold his… and she'd never be able to again.

* * *

The _smack_ of the front door against the wall cued Stefan's eye roll. Damon's juvenile mood was nearly a tantrum. Rebecca followed behind the brothers with another slam of the door. Stefan was nearly tempted to ask her, for the hundredth time, if she was okay; she had wiped her makeup-streaked face already, and her mouth was in a tight line. He decided to address his brother instead.

"He's still alive, so I don't know what you're moping about," Stefan declared. Damon, already positioned at the liquor trolley, poured himself a drink with splashing haste.

"No talking 'til I'm seeing _two_ of you. Then, I'll kick _both_ of your asses!" The older Salvatore brother threw his drink back quickly and poured another.

"Damon, just calm down, Stefan has a point," Rebecca muttered. Stefan watched her pinch the bridge of her nose, out of habit. Something else was going on with her, under the surface, since Julian had her throat trapped in his grip. "Hey, pour me one."

Damon's voice was shrill as he handed a glass to Rebecca and turned to Stefan. "This is why there's a _hard_ line between good and evil, Stefan. _I_ don't cross into _your_ territory— _don't_ cross over into _mine_!"

"This isn't about _you_ , Damon." Stefan's words echoed what he had told his mother earlier; his tone, however, was harder because Damon was always egocentric. "Get over it."

"You know, I never thought I'd say this, Stefan, but I _miss_ the days when you just let your big brother handle all the dirty work. Quite frankly, I can't figure out why you have such a big beef with this guy…"

"Damon, you've done much worse for much less—and that was when you were _human_ ," Rebecca interrupted, extending her empty glass. His cool gaze narrowed as he refilled the vessel. Suddenly, his eyes rounded as he turned to Stefan with curiosity and… malice.

"… _unless_ V-Card Valerie got under your skin."

Stefan's jaw locked as he passed his attention between Damon and Rebecca. Damon's gaze was half-lidded and cocky; Rebecca's was pinched and perplexed.

"You don't want to start with me right now, Damon," warned the glowering Stefan. His mouth pressed into a line as Damon finished his second drink and went for a third.

"I'm surprised, Stefan," Damon goaded with a mean smirk. "I thought Caroline was the one—"

"Damon, you should—"

"And yet again, we all thought _Elena_ was the one, huh?" Damon continued despite Rebecca's gritted scold. "What _is_ it about the first time that just makes it _so_ memorable?"

"Damon, _you_ — wait, no, Stef— don't— _wait_!"

Ignoring his logic and Rebecca's protests, Stefan flashed over and shoved his brother across the room, into the coffee table. He slammed him onto the glass littered ground, his eyes ringing and fading Rebecca's shouts. The sudden burst of anger subsided as Stefan raised a fist to Damon's wild glare, but Rebecca was already ripping the younger brother from the older one. Damon laid with his hands on either side of his head in defeat, not even willing to attack Stefan back.

"Stefan, get _ahold_ of yourself!" Rebecca growled. "We get it, there's something you're not telling us, and it's apparently so important that you'd _attack_ —"

"I got Valerie pregnant."

His confession filled the room like a ripple. It echoed in his own ears. Rebecca's clasp fell away from his arm as she collapsed to the side. Damon lifted his head, confusion pinching his face.

"What?" the older brother finally breathed.

"In 1863," Stefan admitted as Damon pushed himself to sit up. Stefan avoided both vampires' eyes. "Julian found out about it, and he beat her until the baby was no longer alive." Stefan slumped against a chair. He felt his brother's incredulous gaze study him, but he stared into the fireplace. The others sat on either side of him, but he was numb to their comfort. "I could have been a father," he muttered, staring down at his empty hands, as fatherhood had been symbolically ripped from his grasp.

"When did she tell you?" Rebecca whispered.

"After we found Julian's body."

"Why didn't you just tell me…?" Damon inquired. Stefan glanced at his brother's still contorted expression. The younger brother scoffed.

"What'd you want me to do? Tell you I could have had a kid and watch you brush it off and say some glib joke about how it was a hundred and fifty years ago?" His features hardened as he looked at his brother; Rebecca's hand curled around his sympathetically. "Yeah, I _know_ it was a hundred and fifty years ago—and it's _stupid_ how much it affects me, but it still does."

"Hey, you have every right to be upset," Rebecca muttered. "She only told you a few days ago— _not_ a hundred and fifty years ago, okay? It's okay to feel this way."

Stefan's head drooped as he shook it. Her words made sense, but it couldn't stop him from feeling so foolish. "I want him dead," Stefan declared to no one in particular. Maybe he just needed to say it aloud, for himself. "No one's going to stop me from killing him. Not in six months—not in six weeks. Now."

* * *

Caroline had seen and heard some ridiculous things in her lifetime. Vampires. Witches. Werewolves. Hybrids. Travelers. Doppelgangers. Heretics. Somehow, the notion of the supernatural wasn't all that crazy to her because she secretly knew. She knew there had to be something else than what met the eye. She never voiced it because she was young—she didn't want to be seen as the loser who believed in ghosts or aliens or whatever. She _wanted_ normalcy, coming from a tense household and soon divorced parents—why would she even admit she believed in anything _abnormal_. She had snippets of both her mother's and father's voices mangled somewhere in the back of her mind from any early age.

In light of this vast range of occult encounters, she thought that was the extent of the _insane_. And then, there was Valerie—the bat-shit _craziest_. She sat down and convinced the man—who just watched his wife die a second time—that his unborn children were still alive.

She was calling bullshit.

Caroline watched Alaric push the coffee table away from the sofa, leaving space for the three to sit around it. She watched as he gathered the supplies Valerie demanded. His heart was pounding. Valerie was definitely toying with him—she was _cruel_. Caroline studied Valerie's blank expression with critical eyes.

"I only have three candles," Alaric muttered meekly. He set them on the coffee table before the already sitting Valerie. The Heretic eyed the meager offering, her eyes snapping up to Alaric's with mild annoyance.

"It'll do." Ungrateful _witch_! Caroline watched as she placed the candles on the corners of the table. Alaric shifted on his feet awkwardly. Caroline wanted to hug him or give him time to grieve—but, of course, Valerie hooked him on this faint idea, this unfathomable hope, that his dead, unborn babies were not actually dead. The witch-vampire didn't even explain what that could mean, how it could happen— _nothing_.

"You can sit," Valerie muttered as if it were obvious. Caroline rolled her eyes, sitting on the armchair at the foot of the table. She did not want to be part of the nonsense, but she was there for Alaric. He sat across from Valerie and unrolled the map she had asked of him.

"Twins are the lifeblood of the Gemini coven," Valerie explained, glancing at Caroline briefly before turning her attention to Alaric. It was like she knew Caroline was glaring and unbelieving. "If a pregnant mother is in danger, then this transfer is our magical failsafe. It's rarely used but… _used_ nonetheless."

"Ric, tell me this isn't crazy," Caroline erupted. Her eyes begged his sanity to flip back on. Alaric's face tilted toward her. His expression was grim.

"My wife, who died months ago, just looked me in the eyes and said goodbye to me. Why the hell not?"

"Because I don't want you to get your hopes up for something that's insane!" Caroline pleaded. Her gaze scorched Valerie, but the witch-vampire's flat expression remained unfazed.

"I need your blood," she prompted Alaric with an outstretched hand.

He offered his open palm, and she created a slice deep enough to produce blood. It pooled in his hand for a second, and Caroline vaguely wondered if Valerie's canine were also itching in her gums. Valerie guided his hand across the map without a single emotion creasing her face.

"Now put it here, Indonesia, the farthest geographical point from Mystic Falls. Your progeny are—obviously—made up of your DNA. If they are alive, the blood will travel along the map. Once it's in the proximity of the babies… the map should ignite."

Carole shot one last look at Alaric— _end the madness here, please_ her eyes cried—but Alaric averted his eyes back to Valerie's not-so-covert attention.

"Close your eyes," Valerie instructed gently. Alaric obliged. "Clear your mind."

Doing as told, Caroline eyed the scene, filtering Valerie's muttered chants. A brief wave of doubt flashed over her as she noticed the blood twitch… and then travel along the map.

* * *

The absence of low conversation on the back porch made Damon's expression pinch as he poured another drink. Rebecca had followed Stefan outside, despite Damon's heed to give him space, and she sat with him in silence for a long time. Knowing her, Damon imagined her thin fingers curl around Stefan's or her hand resting on his shoulder, rubbing her thumb against the fabric of his jacket for comfort. Rebecca had a way of comforting with small physical acts.

Then, Damon heard their muffled voices. He knew it wasn't intentional like they were trying to keep him out of the conversation—the conversation only allowed for whispers and gentle words. The air of the entire property seemed thinner after Stefan's confession. Damon also didn't try to listen—Rebecca had been there for Stefan when Damon was off trying to make his father proud; the bond they had was sacred and didn't deserve the older Salvatore's input. Besides, he was caught up in his own thoughts.

Damon poked his head out the door. Stefan was alone. Damon frowned. Stefan glanced over, his eyes glazed by alcohol and melancholy, before turning to stare at the nothing in front of him.

"She left. Said she was giving me space. That's she'd be taking a walk."

"Apparently, she's been doing that since we were kids." Damon shrugged and plopped down in the chair next to his brother's. He sighed, staring at a similar nothing.

"Let me ask you something," Stefan suddenly announced, his green gaze widening. "Did Julian remind you of anyone in particular tonight?"

"The Almighty Giuseppe Salvatore," Damon's immediate reply held a feigned sense of wonder. Stefan hummed his agreement, a cross between a snort and a scoff escaped him as he took a drink. "You saw it too."

"Yep. Although… I will say Julian's right hook…" Stefan swung his fist theatrically with a click, "has got a little more _heft_ to it."

Damon chuckled. Julian as a human, beating the brothers as humans, would have been equally as painful as the altercation tonight—and would have probably ended in the boys' deaths. Giuseppe always knew the edge, skirting it expertly.

The silence between the brothers grew pensive. The leaves rustled. Crickets chirped. Animals scurried through the woods. Somewhere in the distance, Damon could hear Rebecca's footsteps crunching leaves. He knew she wouldn't be able to _not_ listen in, but he ignored the thought.

"Elena and I talked about starting a family." The admittance draped between the brothers. Damon felt Stefan's gaze on him patiently. "I mean… it was a _fantasy_ but still. We secretly knew, as long as she was a vampire, that's all it was." Damon paused to look down at his glass. "Then, she took the cure, and all of a sudden, having a real family was a possibility. Granted, it'd be dysfunctional as hell but—" Damon swore he heard the teetering of Rebecca's giggle "—we'd have a real _human_ family."

Stefan chuckled, absorbing his brother's vulnerability. It was unlike Damon to bear his heart—there were glimpses here and there, but there was something difference about this confession—but he also knew it was never too late when it came to Stefan. Stefan always had his back, always came back, and he never turned his back on Damon—even when he desperately deserved it. Damon took a swig.

"Did it ever scare you, the thought that maybe, you'd turn into our father?"

Damon snorted, tossing an incredulous look at his younger brother. "The guy sent our mom away to die— _alone_. He bullied us for _years_ , and then, he _shot_ us. If anything, I just wanted to be a great dad to _spite_ him." The older Salvatore inhaled sharply to steady his erratic outburst. "What about you?"

"Well, I've been on this Earth for a hundred and sixty some years. And I've seen the world at thirty thousand feet, I've traveled to every continent, learned how to cook… built a Porsche. I think my only regret would be not having a kid."

After a beat, Damon declared, "If you want Julian dead, I'll help you." Stefan looked away from the gnarl in the wooden floor and met Damon's severity. "Tomorrow? Tonight? Now? I'm in."

* * *

The study of the Lockwood manor was dark and cold. Rebecca's legs curled under her as she lounged on the sofa. Her grip on a bottle of wine dangled over the armrest. Her little journal sat, untouched, next to her. She had never been fond of putting her thoughts on paper, but being alive indefinitely had motivated her to write, at least, one thing daily. Tonight, though, her mind buzzed too much to catch a coherent thought.

As she sat with Stefan, listened to his turmoil and resolve, her mind kept flashing back to the boarding house. Julian's speech, his hold on her throat, the murder in his eyes… Adjacently, her father's actions clouded her mind, but she felt something darker… more esoteric. She had to excuse herself.

After changing, she found herself immersed in the obscurities of the woods. She had occupied her thoughts by eavesdropping on the brothers' heart-to-heart, but the snap of a twig made her whip around.

"What a lovely show you and those jesters put on," the smirking British vampire announced, stepping from the shadows. He had also changed, into a similar t-shirt and jeans ensemble.

"Excuse me?"

"In the kitchen, with Julian." He rolled his eyes and explained, "Yes, I was watching—I heard Lily's distress."

"Why didn't you intervene?" Rebecca inquired. She tried to keep her boundaries high, but she was tired. Weary.

"Wasn't my place," he shrugged. "Lily was safe, so I left." Enzo's gaze turned predatory, and Rebecca could see the years of vampirism in the one glance. "I knew Julian wasn't fond of Lily's children—a few whispers here and there from her precious Heretic children—but _you…_ " Rebecca swallowed as Enzo's sharp gaze glinted in the moonlight. "Now what would he have against _you_?"

"I attacked him."

" _Hmmm_. You're harboring a secret, aren't you, _Miss Becca_?"

Julian called her that, after the staged introduction, as he shook her hand, flashed a charming smile. Enzo had noticed. Her jaw clenched for a moment before she raised a brow.

"What do you want?"

Victory glittered in his smile. "That was actually a lot easier than I thought." Rebecca grimaced. "I actually don't know, but I know this tidbit of information is too great to keep hidden for long." In a flash, he stood in front of her peering down at her defiantly set face. His calculating eyes passed over her expression before smoldering her with his stare. "You're scared."

"You would be too, if…" Rebecca's words caught in her throat. Her brows came together. "Everyone thought he was gone— _permanently_. Everyone brushed off Lily's protests, 'cause she'd always been delusional about him. _I_ should have known better. The devil doesn't stay in hell forever, even though it's his home."

"So, you're sired to him," Enzo switched gears, "anything he says, you _must_ do?"

"I thought you knew how a sire-bond worked."

"Just checking, darling," Enzo sighed. She could feel his pity wash her face. After a moment of deliberation, marked by his clenched jaw, he admitted, "I want to get rid of him."

Rebecca snorted. "Join the line, _darling_ ," she shot back.

"So, you wouldn't try to stop me?"

"Unless _he_ tells me to." Her eyes met his dark ones with a vengeance. "The bond will be severed. Someone needs to put him back in that Stone or put him down."

"Rebecca?"

Yanked from her thoughts, Rebecca nearly dropped the dangling bottle at the sound of Damon's voice. Her eyes swept toward the direction of his voice, but the darkness veiled his distinct features.

"Yeah, hey." She cleared her throat and threw back a drink from her bottle. "What are you doing up?"

"Couldn't sleep. Heard you come back inside." Her heart leaped, wondering if he had been able to hear her like she had heard him and Stefan. Damon was never good at keeping things a secret—but, then again, she hasn't known him for centuries.

She heard the splash and the aroma of bourbon. She felt the sofa sink next to her; her tickled toes curled at the soft fabric of Damon's pajama pants. He sighed after a deep gulp. She already imagined him asking about Enzo, asking about Julian, asking about—

"Did you kill George when you turned?"

Rebecca choked on her current swig. A wet laugh bubbled out of her coughing as Damon instinctively patted her back. "No, I…" Another ridiculous giggle erupted him her. Perhaps it was a stressed reaction. "When I returned, after I transitions, I found out he was dead. Killed." She turned to his sharpening profile. "Did _you_ kill Giuseppe?"

"Stefan did," he muttered. He raised his glass to his lips, pausing as if he wanted to add something, but he changed his mind.

Rebecca knew his relationship with his father; she knew it was complicated. The man relentlessly abused him, and his brother who he'd die for, but Damon gave his whole heart to make his father proud. Damon's greatest trait and, most likely, his final demise would be his search for love and approval.

"I heard you, by the way," Damon mumbled. Rebecca stiffened. "Laughing at my 'dysfunctional' family fantasy."

"Oh," Rebecca breathed a laugh. "Yeah, 'cause that's what it would've been."

"It would have been _great_ ," Damon defended playfully. "And, if Stefan had a kid, I'd be the best damn uncle there ever was. Spoiling the hell out of him, teaching him all he needed to know in life."

"Or her," Rebecca quipped.

"Or her."

"You'd be a great dad, too."

The silence between the two was thick—but Rebecca knew it was for different reasons. Damon was caught up in the fantasy, but she was suffocating. The secret she had buried for so long—that a stranger uncovered in one night of knowing her—was sitting on her chest, and she wanted to blurt it out to the one person she had trusted… but she knew it wouldn't fall on understanding ears. So, she opted for a different one.

"I had a daughter." She felt Damon's body turn stiffly. She wondered if _he_ could see her through the night shrouding them. "Her name was Mabel Rose. I called her Marble because she had these…" Rebecca paused to breathe. "She had these shiny, bright eyes. Her father just called her Rosie."

"You never told me who you married," Damon nudged her teasingly. She rolled her eyes, pushing him back.

"I married Michael Garner."

"Wow, Beck, no wonder you didn't want to tell me." She felt his body shift, knowing he was crossing his arms dramatically. Even centuries later, Damon whined about her relationship with one of his old friends. "What _else_ are you keeping from me?"

He was being playful, silly, lighthearted—but her throat constricted anyways. She tipped the last dregs of wine back and clicked her teeth at the aftertaste.

"She was supposed to have a twin… a brother." Her voice was tiny. His name was Joseph… He didn't make it through the night."

"Rebecca's eyes widened as Damon's fingers slowly linked with hers. "I'm…"

"I know, me too." She sighed. "Listen, I know I said I'd help you stop Stefan, but—"

"Oh, no, no, no." Damon scoffed. "Julian attacked the Salvatore bloodline. We're all Team Hero-Hair now." Rebecca giggled, leaning on him playfully. He nudged her back, a low chuckle following.

Another moment of silence stretched between the two, but Rebecca felt relief from expelling, at least, one morsel of her past. She realized their hands were still connected but didn't say anything, even as his thumb brushed against hers absentmindedly.

"I wanted to name my daughter—"

"Rose, I know… I remembered." Rebecca smiled a little. "Stefan was caught between naming his son Joseph or Jacob… I wanted to honor you boys since you wouldn't have the chance to…"

Damon's hum kept her from continuing after her falter. She shifted and rested her head on his shoulder carefully, as if she would scare him away. His hand slipped from hers, but his arm encased her into his side.

The contact was enough to dampen her eyes; she buried her face in his bare shoulder. She didn't cry. She just hid in the aroma of his deodorant and cologne, and she allowed herself to feel comfort after all of these years.

Feeling the tear brimmed eyelashes against his skin, Damon hummed and pressed a kiss on the top of her head.

* * *

 ** _Whaaaaaaaaaaat_** **? I told you to wait for the party chapter! This was, by far, my fav chapter to write so far… and I'm excited for what I have planned next. Thanks for reading!**

 **Oh, I'm thinking about setting up a Tumblr for the story, for drabbles, for pictures/inspiration, and so you can pester me about updates lol. What do you think?**

 **Hope you enjoyed! Review for inspiration and motivation, please!**

 **xo,**

 **glass27doll**

* * *

 **RHatch89:** Thanks! And thank you so much for being such a loyal reader and consistent reviewer! Hope you enjoyed this update!

 **lost'n'whatnot:** Enzo and Bonnie… seriously, I'm a Bamon trash until the end, _but_ I also low-key ship Bonenzo, so I dabble lol. Thanks for reviewing, and I hope you enjoyed this update!

 **luvudramione:** Thank you! As of now, the pairing is DamonxRebecca (eventually?) but Bamon looks like it might be canon soon…?! (screaming, honestly) so maybe RebeccaxEnzo. Lawls but I love Damon just way too much for that to happen, soooo *shrugs* it's up in the air, darling. Thanks for reviewing and I hope you enjoyed the update!


	19. Unplanned

**A/N: Hey everyone! Sorry for the delay, but alas, the next chapter is here! Enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own any of the TVD characters/plotlines/dialogue. I only own the Suttons and their storylines.**

* * *

 **Chapter 17**

Unplanned

The shriek of metal sliding against metal didn't wake her, but the sudden intrusion of light did. A groan filtered through Rebecca's lips, and her eyelids squeezed as if she could shut them tighter. A shadow temporarily saved her.

"Wake up, _honey_ ," Damon sang with a sugary voice. Unwilling to open her eyes, she curled beneath the sheets. Her face buried into a pillow… distinctly smelled like Damon. Her eyebrows scrunched together. " _Becky_ ," Damon drawled.

"Bastard," a growl slipped through barely parted lips.

From her foggy memory, the two had finished off two more bottles of liquor—one wine, the other, the Salvatore favorite, bourbon—and Rebecca had dissolved into giggles. She remembered Damon's eyebrows rise with amusement as she rambled about her cute little Marble. He stayed uncharacteristically quiet, but she hadn't noticed at the time. She vaguely remembered his arm around her waist as he ushered her swaying body up the stairs… and her hand capturing his wrist. It wasn't a dream when she asked him to stay—though the adulterated thoughts roused by his warm body might have been…

"That's not what you were saying last night," he sang again, throwing himself onto the mattress. She flipped the comforter back and pried an eye open to glare. He was radiant, and his smile was wicked. "' _No_ , _Damon, please! Stay! I need you!'_ "

"Now, why the _hell_ would I ever say _that_?" With another aggravated groan, Rebecca willed herself to roll into a sitting position. Her vision sharpened at the glaringly white room. "And in what universe is my voice even that high?"

Ignoring her, she felt his cursory glance.

"Cute hair."

"Oh, _shut up_." She combed her hair down with her fingers. With an aggravated glance, she grumbled, "Why the hell are you waking me at the crack of dawn? Need I remind you that we're—"

"—creatures of the night, yeah, you've used that one already." He met her scowl with a cocky grin. The kind that melted inhibition and seared minds on lonely nights. It would have an effect if she hadn't seen it time and time again, used on both herself and other young ladies. "And it's almost noon."

"Okay, it's almost noon— _whatever_."

"Well, _usually_ , when I sleep with a girl, I whip up a little naked-breakfast." His eyebrows waggled despite her flat expression. "But, considering our 'sleeping together' was less _fun_ and more _conventional_ , I figured I'd, at least, _buy_ you some breakfast."

Rebecca hummed absentmindedly and pulled the comforter from her legs. With a chill, she realized they were bare. "When did my _pants_ come off? _Jesus_ , that would explain so much…"

"What do you mean?"

Rebecca's eyes traveled sheepishly to Damon's, but the glitter in his eyes was too sparkly for his question to be innocent. She gasped and thudded his chest.

" _You_ gave me those dirty dreams last night!" she accused through an escaped laugh. His brows fell into a mockingly pensive expression.

"Now why would I do that?"

"Because you're a _dick_ ," she hissed.

"If you're referring to—" His perverse train of thought was cut short by the pillow slammed into his face. He laughed, tossing it back to her retreating body.

"I'm _pretty_ sure that's considered cheating." Damon's smile sagged, and she smirked, pleased with her accusation's effect. "I mean, I know the leash is pretty short, but—"

"Beck."

She rolled her eyes and pushed herself out of the plush bedding. She stretched with her linked hands over her head and then bent to touch her toes. She peered at Damon through her shins. She smirked at his knowing glare at the ceiling

"Okay, so breakfast," she announced as she righted herself. "Meaning Whitmore, right?"

Damon nodded. "I've been trying to invite Bonnie, but she's not returning any of my messages." Rebecca snorted as she lifted her suitcase onto the dresser across the room. "Do you know something I don't, Beck?"

"You didn't even say hi to her at the party last night, dude." Rebecca wiggled her fingers as she chose a hair tie. "Your loss. She looked hot as _hell_."

"Bon always looks…" Damon's automatic retort faltered as Rebecca tossed an expectant look over her shoulder. Damon pressed his lips together, and Rebecca's amusement crinkled the corners of her eyes. "Maybe _you_ should text her."

"Just use my phone. It's on the nightstand."

The silence following her vague wave indicated he actually did as told. She lifted the sundress Caroline made her buy and scrutinized the tiny yellow birds on blue fabric. She had only agreed to buy it because Caroline spun a long hypothetical tale about being around for spring and something about Easter. Rebecca sighed, shaking her head with a little smile. She pulled off her tank top, rooted around for a bra, and slipped the dress over her head. Tightening her ponytail, she turned to meet Damon's unblinking gaze.

"I forgot how much of a tease you are." Her gaze brightened as his glossed over her briefly. "You have an unread message, by the way." He extended the phone, but she just shrugged.

"I'll check it later."

Her phone chirped, and Damon tilted it for a better view. His face immediately twisted as he read it.

"Who the _hell_ is the 'handsome vampire'?" he exasperated as if he was the only handsome vampire to ever step into Bonnie's life. The mention of Enzo made Rebecca's blood run cold—she felt Damon's eyes track her tiny pause—but she replied with another snort.

"Enzo." Her throat seemed to close, hearing his name in her voice, like an allergic reaction. She cleared it. "If you don't want to get food, we should at least—"

"She's with _Enzo_?" Damon demanded. Rebecca's shoulders slumped as she rolled her eyes. "Why is she with _him_?"

"He probably liked what he saw last night." Rebecca flopped onto the bed and took her phone from Damon's grip. A few executive swipes later, she turned the screen toward the skeptical Damon. "See?"

The picture encapsulated the thick tension between the little witch and the suave vampire. Both had their chins tilted indignantly to the other though the sparkle was clear in both sets of eyes. Damon's ones darkened as they fixed on the picture. His jaw tightened. Rebecca had seen this look only a few times before, in passing—usually when she had mentioned her current flame was one of his friends.

"Hey, Bonnie is a big girl, and unless you are _jealous_ ," Damon's head snapped up to meet Rebecca's pointed stare, "we should really get a move on this breakfast thing 'cause I am _starved_."

"Breakfast is _ready_!" Stefan's announcement rose only slightly higher than normal volume.

"I thought you were treating me…" Rebecca's staged pout wasn't enough to drag Damon out of his funk. Her expression slackened, and her lip curled. "Are you going to do this," she gestured to his face with splayed fingers, "all day?"

Damon's glare kept Rebecca's disinterested gaze for a beat before he rolled his eyes. With a flourish, he was on his feet; he bowed and offered a hand. Rebecca dramatized a wide curtesy before taking his hand.

"You know, Goldilocks," Damon breathed near her ear as they came to the foot of the stairs, "it seems like _you're_ the jealous one."

Rebecca's glare drilled into the back of his skull as he flounced around the corner.

* * *

Caroline wasn't foreign to the idea of a pregnancy test. Back in high school, desperate for attention, she wasn't exactly the most difficult girl to get on her back, if it meant "affection". Twice, she purchased a pregnancy test with shaky hands and a red face. In the back of her mind, she knew she was overreacting when her period didn't come the _exact_ day it had the month before, but her jittery anxiety got the best of her.

She thought those days over.

The knot of nerves that usually accompanied the three-minute wait wasn't there because she was almost positive— _no pun intended_ —that she wasn't pregnant. Positive that Valerie was playing some kind of mind game on her and Alaric, like a cruel twist of a knife into his heart. It was probably more for her because she was Stefan, and anyone with eyes could see Valerie was still head-over-heels for him. It was odd, to Caroline, that Valerie had harbored affections for Stefan, even after his presumed death, but Caroline chalked it up to heightened 'vampire longing'.

Whatever. To appease Alaric, she did the test.

Edging out of the dormitory bathroom, Caroline pursed her lips, displaying the pregnancy test. Alaric, distracted by the packaging, glanced up at the sound of the door unlocking. How _awkward_. Caroline vaguely wondered how many times he waited for a girl to pee on a stick and sat with her until the results showed. Alaric was attractive enough for the possibility of multiple sleeping partners, but he was kind enough for the possibility of sticking around to be a father too. She pressed her lips tighter.

"Well, it's simple enough. Two lines, you're pregnant—one line, you're not."

"And how many lines if you've been mystically _knocked up_ by a coven of _dead_ witches?" The sarcastic line—a jab at Alaric's light tone and, ultimately, his sanity—clearly missed its target. Alaric's amused smirk indicated he had none left. She sat on Bonnie's bed and sighed.

"Guess we'll find out in three minutes." He copied her action, sat on the edge of her bed, and set his cell phone down. Her eyes darted to the slow countdown on his screen.

"This is _crazy_ ," she declared for the hundredth time, glaring at the ceiling. "I mean, you're an Occult studies professor—have you _ever_ come across anything about a _pregnant_ vampire?"

"No," he admitted. A triumph smile almost parted Caroline's lips, but he continued, "But, until a few weeks ago, I'd never heard of a stone that was full of tormented vampire souls either."

His feeble smile, coupled with his lighthearted jokes was his attempt to ease her tension. Not that she _was_ tense. Rather, not that she _should be_ tense, considering she was _not_ pregnant… The more she waited, though, the less turbulent her thoughts became and doubt began to settle.

"But how would it even be _possible_?" she persisted. She noticed the minuscule twitch of Alaric's face. Her voice was getting annoying like it did whenever she got exasperated trying to make a point. Stefan had pointed it out to her and mentioned he thought it was cute. She doubted Alaric had the same sentiments. "I'm technically _dead_."

"Well, your body basically functions normally," Alaric reasoned. She felt his eyes set on her downcast face. "Your heart beats, you breathe. I mean, is it that far outside the realm of possibility that your body could support a baby… or two?"

It was her turn to stare. He looked like a puppy sometimes, she supposed, when he wanted. Dopey eyes, crooked but affectionate smile. He was like those dogs that have extra empathetic sense. She toyed with the pregnancy test without really looking at it. Looking through it.

"Why would the coven want me to…?" came her nearly inaudible whisper.

"I don't think they had a choice," Alaric confessed. Caroline's gaze snapped up to connect with his. "The Geminis were all dying. They couldn't just let the future of their coven perish along with them… So, they put the babies someplace safe… inside a body that… that wouldn't die."

* * *

Caroline had always said Stefan was the champion of avoiding problems.

After last night's failed attempts to kill the object of his hatred, being brutally tossed around like driftwood in a storm, and his openhearted confessions to his brother and old friend, Stefan had woken up with a stiff neck and the company of three empty bourbon bottles. Maybe if he stayed in bed, forgot the plan, just laid there until hunger got the best of him or he started desiccating… he'd be okay.

He turned over, away from the curtain muted sunlight and grabbed his phone from the nightstand. No messages. A rock of guilt weighed on his chest as he tossed the device aside and stared at the ceiling.

Pushing himself out of the plush solace, he showered to clear his buzzing mind and decided to make a breakfast vast enough to feed a full Mystic Falls sounded like the best idea he'd had in years. He snuck downstairs as the sun twinkled past the treetops, and went to work. He made waffles from scratch; then, he worked on omelets full of mushrooms, tomatoes, bell peppers, onions, cheese, and sausage. He topped the meal with copious amounts of bacon, for Damon's liking, and various fruits, for Rebecca's old habits.

Damon had seemed slightly irritated by his impulse, but Rebecca's heart and mind seemed to be in the same place as Stefan's.

"Oh, bless your heart, Stefan Salvatore!"

Stefan chuckled as Rebecca finished her last wedge of waffle doused in syrup, with a childish sound effect. He shot a glance at Damon; his brother's eyes fell on Rebecca's theatrics with faint amusement. He raised a brow at the younger Salvatore; something about the reunion felt oddly… _comfortable_.

Rebecca reached for the bowl of evenly sliced fruits—Stefan spent extra time cutting them—and he watched her pour a tall heap onto her plate. Her eyes were wide and bright as she watched the slices tumble out of the bowl, but she recovered quickly when she caught both brothers watching her with smirks. She stuck out her tongue.

"You know, I was planning on taking Beck out for breakfast," Damon commented idly. He munched on his extra crispy bacon as he raised his eyebrows to Stefan.

"I'm sure no diner was going to lavish us like Steffy." Rebecca leaned over and pinched Stefan's cheek affectionately. "Ooh, you know what'd go _perfectly_ with this meal?" she inquired with a halved cherry in her mouth.

Stefan watched the fruit juice drip a little down the center of lip carelessly. Damon already held a napkin out for her; when she took it, he disappeared from the table for less than a minute. He returned with two blood bags. Rebecca grinned.

"It's like you read my mind."

"Well, it's not like much is going on up there, Blondie," Damon retorted as he forced the blood into mugs. Rebecca scrunched her face in protest, causing Damon to imitate her, but Stefan stilled at the nickname.

Damon called _Caroline_ that.

Stefan forced a low chuckle, sounding more like a cough to him, and continued working on his three-egg omelet. Something about cooking always made him less hungry. Must be something psychological. The stale smell of the blood made the food taste like ash in comparison anyway.

"Seriously, Stef, this is _amazing_ ," Rebecca gushed, putting a hand over his with a smile. "Who _knew_ you'd learn to… well," she interrupted herself and pointed her fork at him. "Actually, Abby always said you'd be the perfect husband." She waved a dismissive hand as she stabbed another fruit. "Well-rounded and all that."

"I didn't realize Abby could actually talk with barking orders," Damon muttered as he leaned against the counter next to the microwave. Stefan caught the play look he cast the blonde vampire, but it faltered at her genuine yet faint agitation.

"Abigail talked about me?" Stefan interjected before Rebecca could snap a response. Damon snorted, setting a steaming mug in front of Rebecca. Stefan's gums itched at the aroma.

"I totally forgot about your crush on her." Stefan's gaze darkened as Damon nudged Rebecca with his elbow and whispered loudly behind a hand, "He used to write full _pages_ in his diary about her hair alone."

"Journal," Stefan corrected automatically, "and I didn't—"

Rebecca's laughter cut off his flustered attempts. "That's _adorable_ ," she managed to say. Damon smirked proudly, shooting a devious look to his younger brother. Stefan's look was sharper. "And would certainly explain all the time you and Sammy spent doing chores for her."

"Well, it's not like we _offered_ ," Stefan protested. "Her chores were mandatory!"

"You _liked_ it," Damon insisted, sipping the blood from his mug noisily. "You just wanted to impress her with your prepubescent charms."

"Speaking of charms," Stefan said over Rebecca's muffled laughter, "my innocent infatuation with Abby was nothing compared to your _thing_ with Julia."

The smile on Rebecca's face sagged as her eyes darted between the brothers. Stefan's gaze didn't fall away from his brother's piercing one. Damon's smile curled a little tighter.

"And what _thing_ did I have with Jules, huh, Stefan?" Damon challenged. Stefan noticed his fork bend in his fist. "Since you know so much, refresh my memory."

"All right, wait." Rebecca cleared her throat and held up a hand. Stefan noticed her averted eyes. "Damon has had many a _thing_ with several girls… enough for a couple lifetimes, it seems now." Her smile was taut as she added, "Or did you forget who your brother was?"

"No, but _really_ , Beck is right—you really outdid yourself," Damon shifted topics abruptly. His smile lacked warmth as he added, "Though I'm glad you didn't make pancakes."

"Why's that?" Rebecca inquired through a full mouth.

"Because my 'vamp-cakes' are to _die_ for," Damon grinned at his own joke. Stefan caught Rebecca's inquiring look and rolled his eyes.

"He puts whipped-cream smiley faces on his pancakes," he explained offhandedly, "and adds fangs because he's trying to be cute."

"Sounds like someone's trying _too_ hard," she retorted. Damon threw her a narrowed glance, but she continued with a sunny smile, "but I would've happily been the taste judge. Breakfast is my favorite."

"Glad that hasn't changed," Stefan smiled and remembered a young Rebecca eagerly waiting for one of their mothers to finish breakfast. She popped a blueberry into her mouth with a smile and a hum. "Though, I'd say voluntarily wearing a dress doesn't seem like the Becca I remember."

"Oh, it's not," she replied automatically, glancing down at the crumbs littering the neckline. She dusted them away as she explained, "Your girlfriend made me buy it."

Again, Stefan felt paralyzed at the mention of Caroline. He hadn't really thought about her since Valerie had revealed the death of their unborn baby. Despite the breakfast they shared yesterday, his mind was full to the brim with revenge.

"Speaking of which, why isn't she here?" Rebecca regarded Stefan with innocent eyes. "Aren't you supposed to be showing off your mad culinary skills or something?"

"She, um…" Stefan's eyes rose to meet Damon's blank stare, barely flitting over to Rebecca's expectant gaze. He chased a blueberry around with his fork. "She hasn't been answering my messages." One _singular_ message, from last night, in a fleeting moment of wishing she was at the party with him.

Sure he wasn't supposed to, Stefan noted Rebecca's bright gaze slide between the brothers. Damon caught her eye and frowned. Stefan felt like he was out of the loop, another sentiment when Damon and Rebecca were in the same room.

" _Interesting_ ," she mused with a high-pitched drawl. She pulled her lips in, to keep herself from smiling. "Well, would you like to text her from my phone?" She produced her cell phone like it was a secret joke.

"You _suck_ ," Damon declared suddenly. Stefan's confusion snapped between his brother's scowl and Rebecca's girlish giggle.

"Maybe, but at least, I'm not having any girl trouble."

Girl trouble…? Damon was… _seeing_ someone? It wasn't _impossible_ , but Damon had a bad case of tunnel vision when he fell head over heels for a girl. Who could he possibly be involved with—that Rebecca knew about and not his own brother?

"You're… seeing someone?" Stefan ventured cautiously. Damon rolled his eyes with an exasperated sigh, and Rebecca stood with a proud smile.

"And _that_ is my cue to head out. Thanks for breakfast, Stef," she leaned to press a kiss on his forehead.

The brothers remained in silence until they heard the front door slam in true Rebecca fashion. Stefan turned to Damon with raised eyebrows, and Damon rolled his eyes again.

"She was talking about Bonnie," Damon finally admitted, adding a nonchalant shrug. "Bonnie's been avoiding my messages. Beck let me borrow her phone, and Bonnie answered."

"You're seeing... Bonnie?"

"What—no, Stefan." Damon shook his head, tipping the mug of blood all the back like it was a glass of bourbon. "No, … but Bonnie's a girl, and it seems like I'm in trouble with her." Damon eyed Stefan curiously before awkwardly offering, "Want to talk about your dilemma with Carebear?"

Despite appreciating his brother's attempt to be sensitive, the last thing Stefan wanted to talk to Damon about was his love life. Instead, Stefan produced a meager smile.

"She's probably busy. You know how Caroline gets."

"Yeah." Damon's perceptive gaze glossed over his brother with a pitying nod. "Yeah, I know how she gets."

* * *

The cheery chime of his cell phone sliced through the tension in the room—and Alaric's heart leaped shamelessly. Despite appearing calm and reasonable, he knew his body was telling another story. Caroline probably heard his erratic heartbeat, smelled his sweaty palms, and noticed his tense muscles. That full minute of silence between the two made Alaric's skin _itch_.

His eyes trained on Caroline's face as she studied the little screen on the pregnancy test. Her face pinched. What did that mean? It could've been a good-news expression (bad news for her, being wrong about Valerie, but he didn't care), or… it could have been a bad-news expression (for him, obviously, and she didn't want to hurt his feelings). Was she being elusive on purpose? Caroline was beautiful, and unfortunately, she was also smart and cunning. Was this a cruel practical joke? Didn't sound like something she'd do. Oh God, he needed to know! If she didn't say something in the next few seco—

Caroline pursed her lips, switched from Bonnie's bed to hers, and passed the plastic to Alaric. He had to force himself to look—so he did a mental countdown.

Three.

Two.

He snuck a look before he could think the final number. He stared for a long time, his own eyebrows coming together. How…?

"Negative." Alaric's eyes shifted away from the single line on the little screen, and he let his hand fall onto his lap. He looked straight into Caroline's soul as if he could _see_ she was pregnant from his deep eye-search. "I don't understand." His voice cracked, but Caroline's gaze never wavered. "I-I mean, Valerie was so _certain_ …"

"Well, I guess she was wrong… or playing some _twisted_ game." Caroline shook her head, dissipating her anger. She glanced down at the pregnancy test in his hand. "Either way, I trust that," she pointed, "a lot more than I trust _her_."

Her words made sense. He could—theoretically-comprehend everything she was saying. They just didn't make an impact. Alaric still felt his hope being stripped away, layer by layer until his raw cynicism was left. Jo died, someone in her body came back—fooled him for a while—and then she died again. The hope of the babies rose in him, and this piece of plastic shot his final chance, peeling back the last protective layer.

"And I'm sorry," whispered Caroline. His eyes flickered up, seeing her creased brow and a little frown. "I know how much you wanted this."

No, he _needed_ this, but he didn't correct her. Instinctively, he reached to soothe her, rubbing his hand against her back. He didn't know if he was projecting or if he was being empathetic… Or just _pathetic_. A twinkling sound came from behind them, and Caroline twisted to reach into her bag.

"Hey, Matt." She turned away from Alaric and muttered, "Now's not a really good ti…" Matt interrupted her attempt to deter him, and Alaric heard her sharp exhale.

Alaric looked down at the pregnancy test again, as if staring at it would make another little blue line appear next to the other. Pregnancy tests were wrong all the time. When he was in college, a girl he had slept with a few times declared she was pregnant, but a quick trip to the doctor's office proved the test was a false positive.

"I think she's with Enzo."

Maybe this was a false _negative_ … He knew it would harass her, but if he could just convince Caroline—

"I don't know," Caroline exasperated. "Were you able to clear them out?" Alaric raised a brow without raising his gaze. Sounded suspicious. "Why would someone compel people to gather at the high school in an abandoned town?"

That caught Alaric's attention. He stared at Caroline's wavy hair as her shoulders tensed. The sound of Matt's low voice had stopped as she called, "Matt...!" A beat later, her cautious, "Matt…?" made the hairs on the back of Alaric's neck stand.

The young man's voice returned after a moment. Caroline sighed, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

"I'll… I'll text you." She hung up and turned to face Alaric again, but her eyes sheepishly stayed away from his. "Something is going on in Mystic Falls."

"I caught that."

"Matt sounds really distressed… I think I should go help him—if that's all right with you."

Alaric looked down at the thin piece of plastic in his hand again. He knew he shouldn't be alone for a while—hell, he should go with Caroline and Matt, considering he was the veteran vampire hunter. Caroline may be the muscle they need, but Alaric knew how to protect strategically. Yet…

"He'll need backup," Alaric finally found his voice. He allowed a small smile though it felt more like a grimace. "Who'd be better for the job than Caroline Forbes?"

"Probably anyone else, but Matt doesn't really _trust_ anyone else." She ducked her head, hiding her small smile. "Thanks, though." She put her hand over Alaric's, rubbing her thumb over the back. Alaric sighed. "I'm a phone call away if you need to talk."

* * *

Rebecca took a deep breath. She checked her dress for any more crumbs and smoothed the nonexistent wrinkles from it. The sun directly over the Salvatore boarding house was a spotlight. She walked up the pathway, taking deep breathes as she finally reached the large door. She wasn't afraid, she continued to remind herself as one lead foot followed the other.

She was Rebecca Sutton—the girl who cheated the death everyone thought she deserved.

She slammed the heavy knocker against the door at an annoying rate until it finally swung open. Expecting Lily's irritated scowl, her obnoxious smile refined into something more polite as the Heretic who had brought the party invitation stood in the doorway.

"Oh, hello there. Beau, right?" Knowing he couldn't reply, she continued. "Yeah, Stefan told me _all_ about you, and how you tried to kill him, Damon, and Valerie. Kind of bummed you didn't succeed with _her_ , though, she's always been a pain the ass—don't you agree?" She paused and allowed a light laugh. "Of course you agree—you've known her infinitely longer than I."

Beau raised an eyebrow, his dark eyes scrutinizing the blonde with a heavy scowl and a set jaw. Another elastic smile parted her lips.

"Oh right— you're probably wondering why I'm here." Her bright features crumpled into feigned concern. "Though, what _I'm_ wondering is why they stuck the only _black_ Heretic on door-duty. That's just plain racist, dude. But, I do suppose if they had put any of the girls to do it, that'd be _sexist_ …" She tapped her chin, despite his danger glare. "Perhaps you should have a word with—" Her fake shock dropped into a snarky grin. " _Oops_ , poor choice of wor—oh, _shit_."

Beau raised a hand, undoubtedly, to deliver a whole word of pain to Rebecca, but she clicked her tongue against her teeth with a patronizing wagging finger.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, honey," she sang. "I'm linked to Julian."

Her bright eyes drank in the facets of emotion crossing Beau's face. His eyes widened with disbelief, studying the younger vampire curiously, before falling into a narrowed gaze, darkened by suspicion. Rebecca laughed.

"Oh, you don't believe me? _Try_ something," she goaded him with a playful smile. "Come on, Beau, I dare _ya_."

"Beau, who's…"

Rebecca's wicked smile nearly split her face as the Heretic couple came into the foyer, flanking Beau instinctually. Mary Louise's nostrils flared as her eyes pierced Rebecca's nonchalance, but Nora's gaze was more curious than vicious.

"Well, if it isn't 'Sue the Human'." Rebecca nearly felt Nora's glance take inventory of her silhouette. The visitor smiled politely.

"Actually, it's Rebecca the _vampire_ ," she amended.

"What is this trash doing on our doorstep?" Mary Louise interrupted, her eyes like daggers. Nora shot her a threatening glance, but her girlfriend didn't t retract her harsh demand.

"Well, Beau's a little tongue-tied right now, but I'm sure he'd tell you all about Julian's brilliant idea to link my life to his." She paused to revel in the girls' shock. "Now, where _is_ your adoptive father? I need to have a word with him."

"If you are telling the truth," Nora started, studying Rebecca's flat expression, "Why would he even do so? Julian would have told us about something like that."

"Besides, he has a whole group of powerful witches at his disposal," Mary Louise scoffed. Her arms folded tightly across her chest as she pouted. "None of us would have allowed him to do something so incredibly stupid."

"Stupid," Rebecca echoed. She chuckled a little. "Yeah, I can't disagree with you on _that_ one. But allow? Now, we all know no one _allows_ Julian to do anything. But please, if you don't believe me, drive me straight to my knees." She quirked a suggestive eyebrow as her eyes traveling between the three easily.

Mary Louise's jaw tightened. Beau's glare remained fixed. Nora was the only one to return the provocative gaze.

"No takers? Shame." Rebecca's playful features drew sharper. "Now, I need to talk to Julian."

"Who linked the two of you?" Mary Louise pressed. "It wasn't one of us."

"Ah, maybe not, but if my math is correct, there are… one, two, three…" Rebecca looked up thoughtfully, drawing tallies in the air. "Plus the exiled Valerie—smart move, by the way—a heartless Malcolm, and a soulless Oscar." Rebecca's gaze fell back to switch between the three. "What makes you think Julian would have chosen any of you numb-skulls for his bidding?"

She felt the sting of Mary Louise's backhanded anger against her face, but she wasn't the only one to suck in a sharp inhale. The three Heretics stilled at the sound from within the boarding house, and Rebecca took their momentary shock to deliver a hard punch to Mary Louise's nose and saunter past her purposefully.

The sound of a turned page caught her attention. Her gaze tapered at the profile of Julian's lounging body in an armchair among the wall of books. A sharp smile tugged on his face as he rubbed his cheek. He finally met her gaze, and she sped over before he could get to his feet.

"Miss Becca," he greeted warmly. He leaned forward in his seat eagerly. She crossed her arms with a scoff. "Always a pleasure to be in your presence."

"Yeah, that 'Miss Becca' bit caught Enzo's attention," Rebecca spat. "He's got us all figured out and cornered me last night."

"Are you ashamed, my dear?" Julian inquired. Rebecca rolled her eyes. "Speaking of last night… I do admit I was rather surprised that you had shown up. The last time I saw you, you wanted nothing to do with me."

"Well, we both know it's a little more complicated than that," Rebecca seethed, "and I was here for Damon and Stefan—not _you_."

"Ah, Lily's boys." Julian's chuckle made the hairs on the back of her neck raise. "Of course you came for them."

"Well, you were supposed to be _dead_ ," she hissed.

"And like the phoenix…"

"We both know that's _not_ why it's called that." Rebecca rolled her eyes again, taking Julian's glass of whiskey and tossed it back without a flinch. His eyes glittered as her brazen behavior. "So, what's the plan then, hmm? Take over the town? For what? I see your _bitch_ already got the ball rolling."

"Don't you _dare_ talk about Lily like that." His hardened voice felt like claws piercing Rebecca's throat, depriving her of oxygen. A wave of fear flushed her cheeks momentarily but Julian didn't miss it. "I-I'm sorry, darling."

He stood and closed the space between them, wrapping his arms around Rebecca's stone body. At one point in her life, the moment would have been endearing and soothing. Now, she felt like his body was a thick smoke, encasing her, suffocating her.

"I am sorry, for it all. Calling you a pet. Attacking you. Darling, you must know, I wasn't myself." Julian's grip embraced her close to his erratic heartbeat. "The Stone… it really does play tricks on the mind."

"All right." She pushed him away and inhaled a clear breath. Freedom. "So, what are you planning? A permanent snack shack called 'Mystic Falls'? The Salvatore boys will do anything to stop you from destroying their town. They haven't exactly given up, you know."

"They got their mother's stubborn gene," Julian mused with a thoughtful smile. "Do you know what they're planning?"

"I don't." Rebecca forced a shrug. Part of the reason she made this trip was to stay out of the loop; she didn't want to betray her old friends, and, in addition to their reasons, she had her own for wanting their success.

Suddenly, his predatory gaze fixed on her casual features. He probably heard the fear beginning to course through her veins. "And what about you, Miss Becca? This was your town also."

Rebecca's expression darkened, despite the dangerous smile parting her lips. "Well, Julian, you know _exactly_ why I have no choice but to be on your side."

Julian smiled, a sick twist of pride, and cupped her face affectionately. Every muscle in her body was still, remembering the same hand crushing her trachea and delivering few blows to the stomach.

"You must hate me," he whispered, his gaze sweeping down her face curiously.

"Innately," she replied immediately. Her voice was barely above a whisper. "But you saved me from permanent death, and I am sired to you— _and_ you linked your life to mine, so…"

"Stay for lunch," Julian urged, letting his hand fall from her face. "I'll explain everything."

* * *

 _The eighth cranial nerve, called the auditory nerve, the acoustic nerve, and/or the auditory vestibular nerve, is the main nerve for auditory sensory information input_ , Bonnie read. Her eyebrows came together. Well, of course it is—it's part of the name? She sighed, bouncing her eyebrows at the text, before continuing.

"What are you reading?"

Her green gaze snapped up from the text but drilled into the glove compartment—instead of into the air-filled skull of the driver. She could hear the playful curiosity in his tone, but she didn't want to indulge his boredom. She held up the textbook, displaying the cover, before slapping it back onto her bare thighs.

Bonnie's cell phone had more traffic that morning than any other Wednesday of her life. Even if her birthday had fallen on a Wednesday, she wouldn't have so many messages. It wasn't a surprise that most of them were from Damon, though. Hadn't given a second to notice her in her _magical_ blue dress last night, but this morning, he was all about _Bonnie_.

 _ **Good morning!**_

 _ **Morning Little Bird, I wanted to treat you & Beck to breakfast. What do you say?**_

 _ **Bon-Bon, are you still sleeping?**_

 _ **Don't you have class today? Skip em anyways**_

 _ **Bonnieeeeee**_

 _ **On a scale from 1 to Bennett witch, how mad would you be if we just showed up at your door?**_

 _ **Wow, not even Barbie is answering her phone. R U guys having a pillow fight w/o me**_

 _ **Ok… what did I do?**_

Bonnie had sighed, dismissing the in-between messages of random emojis, rolled her shoulders, and started to reply when she noticed the other sender's name scroll across her screen. What had Enzo been doing, contacting her?

 _ **Morning luv. Fancy a trip to the boondocks?**_

 _ **Guess who found Oscar's car. Thought some backup would be nice**_

Bonnie had frowned at the message. Actually, she frowned at the sudden prickle of heat rising in her chest. Enzo requesting her attention—let alone her presence _and_ company—was so bizarre and unexpected… and she had to toss the idea around for a moment, bumping between the pros and cons of spending a day with the British vampire.

"Neurophysiology," Enzo commented. "So you can do that little witch trick better."

His childish humor, parallel to Damon's own dark and traipsing on the border of inappropriate humor, was one of the various cons she grappled with.

With flared curls, Bonnie studied Enzo as he sat, ten and two, and dark eyes gracing the road. His jaw was something Michelangelo must have carved—maybe he was that old. Who knows? Not her. The stubble covering his stark jawline, dripping down to his neck…

Yeah, that was definitely one of the _pros_ .

A sharp smile ticked up as he shot her an expectant glance. Bonnie always thought it was unfair how nature and magic made vampires fast, strong, and _gorgeous_. They were the perfect predator, and Bonnie could see why one could become a victim so easily.

"Precisely."

"Well, put a bookmark in it. We're here."

Enzo parked the car on the edge of the impound, compelled the man in the dingy little hut to allow them in, and marched through the gravelly lot. Bonnie treaded the pebbles lightly in her heels.

"Why would a centuries-old vampire with a bunch of witch groupies be so _desperate_ to find _anything_ collecting dust in the Midlothian Count impound? Seems a little beneath him." As she stole a glance at the vampire, her heel sunk into a hill of rocks, and she would have fallen had Enzo not caught her elbow. He allowed a terse smile; her gaze was sharp. "Thanks."

Ignoring her gratitude, he said, "Well, if Julian wants it, then so do I."

"We talking about Oscar's _car_ or Lily?" Bonnie prodded. Enzo shot her a dark look, but her smile was bright and teasing. "You're not doing this to stop a psychopath. You just want the girl."

Enzo's face broke into a sarcastic smile. "Congratulations!" he announced with a flourished gesture. "You've just unlocked every man's _true_ motivation in life."

"Let me give you some advice—stop treating Lily like some prize to be won."

"Spoken like somebody's who's never been fought over."

Bonnie had seen Stefan and Damon fight over Elena for years. She had already known her best friend enjoyed every second of it, soaking in the attention, without Elena's explicit confession—but Bonnie had always wondered how _she_ would react if she was in her best friend's shoes. At first, she admitted to herself, she'd be flattered. After a while, though, she wouldn't want love to be dictated by fate or who won her over—her Grams taught her to be strong and levelheaded, and choosing between two men would need both of those attributes. Besides, being fought over was barbaric. Childish. Insulting. She wouldn't tolerate it.

Yet, Enzo's offhanded quip stung. It agitated her like she wanted to burn him or send him to his knees in withering pain. Did he not think she was _worth_ fighting over? What a dick.

Bonnie threw the vampire a look, hiding her vulnerability behind an indignant glare. "It's _not_ the turn-on you think it is." Not that she would know. What she did know, however… "Try flowers. A quiet dinner. _Listening_." Enzo chuckled like she was naïve. A bright car caught her eye, and she checked the strip of paper Enzo had scribbled on. "Found it."

"I'm assuring Julian _doesn't_ want it for its blue book value," Enzo mumbled. "Charming."

The low timbre of his voice gave her goosebumps. What was her problem today? She was never so easily… _persuaded_ by the physicality of a man before. How was Enzo any different than previous cases?

She focused on the trunk Enzo had pried open. He lifted the spare tire easily, tossing it aside, and rummaged through the trash. A few Playboys, a brochure for Hawaii, spare clothes, a pair of worn out sneakers, tons of maps, and even a box of candles. There was a piece of cloth beneath it all, in a hole carved out of the trunk, and Enzo uncovered a sword.

"I'll wager this is what Julian's looking for." He inspected the sword with a frown. It was too small for him, but it was the perfect size for Bonnie. "Wonder what makes it so special."

"I think I've seen that before," Bonnie murmured, her eyes doing a general sweep of the artifact. "When I was doing research on the Stone. Let me see what I can dig up." She gripped the weapon, ready to clear her mind of everything but magic, but Enzo fought her reach.

"No—I don't need research to tell me which side has the pointy end," Enzo sneered. Bonnie's gaze narrowed. How brutish. "What do we need to know?"

"If he wants to kill someone with it or he's worried about being killed by it," Bonnie countered easily, trying to take the sword back. Enzo wouldn't relent. Was she the only person who exercised common sense these days?

"Well, there's only one way to find out," Enzo retorted with a sharp smile. Predatory. Anger ignited in the witch, but also… something else. "Ram it through his chest and see what happens."

"Oh, I know what's _not_ going to happen," Bonnie pressed with raised brows. "Lily falling hopelessly in love with the person who murdered her sweetheart." Enzo paused, letting go of the sword and studied the witch.

"Not if I make it look like self-defense."

"Good idea," Bonnie chirped sarcastically. "Go pick a fight with an _extremely_ powerful, unhinged ancient vampire. Should work out great!"

Enzo paused his inspection of the small weapon and surveyed the small witch instead. She paused, her muscles frozen as his scrutiny glossed over her; she could practically feel his gaze peering straight through her. A smile crawled across his face.

"Is that a hint of… _concern_ for me that I detect in your voice?"

Bonnie immediately scoffed. It was easy to do because of his tone, but had he had been sincere, she didn't know how she'd react.

"Now that I think about it, go ahead and kill each other." She shoved the sword onto his chest, holding her hands up, indicating she was done. "Win-win for me."

* * *

Today wasn't exactly a good day in Damon's book.

It started out in a hazy stumble downstairs, to more bourbon, only to find a pensive Rebecca and to learn about her marriage to his ( _very_ ) late childhood friend and about her motherhood. Rebecca Sutton—or, rather, Rebecca _Garner_ as a mother—now that was a scenario Damon never thought she'd be in. Rebecca spent years proclaiming her womb would never conceive a child, especially if it were to make a man happy… and yet, Damon knew that was the only reason Rebecca would even consider it. Aside from her brothers and the Salvatores, Michael Garner was the closest friend she had, despite the several teenaged hookups.

The night turned and bordered danger territory. Damon had laced his arm around her waist as he led her to her room, and he had set her onto the bed unceremoniously. With amusement, he waited for her to fight out of those bright sweatpants, and he tucked her under the blanket dutifully.

"Why are you leaving?" she had pouted.

"Because you're a big girl now," Damon had teased, knowing the humor would be lost on the drunk blonde. "And big girls sleep all by themselves."

Rebecca propped herself up on her elbows and stared Damon down with a wide-eyed look.

"But I don't want to be by myself." She shook her head, her hair falling away from her shoulder, and her gaze pierced his as if she was trying to compel him. "Stay."

Damon knew the look that glistened in her honey eyes was more an _invitation_ than a request—he _would_ know, having given and received the look thousands of times—but he convinced himself they both had one drink too many to be held responsible. He took off his clothes, left in his boxers, and slipped under the blanket with her.

Before he folded his hands behind his head, he had pointed at her, mocking a stern voice. "Now, no funny business, Beck. I'm only allowing _one_ good grope, and that's _it_ , okay?"

Her aberrant giggle, punctuated by a hiccup, made him smile a little. She curled close to him without touching him, with her hands tucked under her cheek, and she fell asleep immediately.

He knew he should have left, but it had felt like his body was just a heavy bag of bones. He hadn't been tired, but he also couldn't move. The deep stretch of her breath, the softness of it hitting his side, made him long for the days he had a girl in his bed. When Elena slept, her face was slack and unyielding. Rebecca's sleep was littered with all sorts of minuscule facial tics. It was amusing, for a while, but then, he did something he really shouldn't have—slipped into her dreams.

Though she thought he had given her naughty dreams, all he did was allow the advances she was already making. She'd hug him, and he'd hug her back. She'd lean in to kiss him, and he wouldn't stop when her mouth connected with his. The dreams never got very far, always morphing into another dream that started and ended in similar places—flirting progressing into making out with heavy touching. Damon realized that's all the two of them knew of one another anyways. It was like they were the same fumbling, experimental teenagers, just in their adult bodies.

When he had woken up—a pan clanged downstairs—Rebecca's arms were snaked around him, clinging to him like he was her salvation, and her bare leg draped over both of his, rubbing it against one subconsciously. He had to take a cold shower after that, scrubbing away the indecent thoughts and the prickly scent of peppermint.

And then, after that, it was downhill. Bonnie's avoidance, her playdate with _Enzo_ —the bastard ex-best friend that not only had the hots for his _mother_ and now _Bonnie_?—Stefan's intrusion on his own quality time with his best friend from the past and his best friend of the present and future, and now, _this_.

Stefan ushered Lily from the kitchen, where she set her roasted cranberries on the counter, and he offered her a seat in the Lockwood sitting room. When Stefan had said he wanted to recruit someone to help bring Julian down, Damon thought Stefan was going to reach out to one of the Mikaelsons, or someone Damon didn't know about during their time apart. What he didn't expect was Stefan's plan to involve their _mother_ , hoping she'd plot against her _lover_. Damon sat in the shadowy part of the room with tightly crossed arms.

He had fabricated plans that bordered insanity, but Stefan's plan was a leap off the deep end.

"I invited you here because… we can't keep doing this." Stefan perched at the edge of his armchair, his elbows propped on his knees and his fingers bridged. Lily watched the younger Salvatore, the eagerness to bring him happiness brightening her widened eyes. Damon rolled his eyes. "I mean, I-I want us _all_ to start over."

"Well, if the pilgrims and Indians could do it, I'm sure there's hope for us." Lily's voice was like an overripe banana. Too sweet and mushy. Damon wondered if she had always been like this, and he was just a young boy who ate it up so desperately.

"We call them Native Americans now," Damon interjected, with a hint of malice and a touch of amusement as her elastic smile slackened, "but we didn't bring you here to correct your outdated racial slurs—did we, Stefan?"

As her cool eyes flitted back to Stefan, the corners of her mouth returned to their peak. It made Damon a little nauseous, how many times she's openly fawn over her youngest son, but he was used to the favoritism.

"I want to convince you of all the reasons that you need to help us get rid of Julian."

It took a nudge, but Damon knew Stefan's preamble could have eaten away at the rest of the day if he didn't intervene. Damon's gaze switched from the back of his brother's head to his mother's waning optimism. Lily's nostrils flared, the vein in her temple swelled, but her face was stony. Her eyes flickered between her sons.

"I'm sorry, is this some sort of…" Her head shook a little, and Damon could see she was losing control on her emotions. " _Setup_?"

"Just hear me out a second," Stefan urged. Damon sat forward, wringing his hands instinctually, interested to hear what his little brother was going to pull out of his ass for this one to actually work. "In 1863, I got Valerie pregnant."

Ah, the good ol' pregnancy card. Hit her right in the warped sense of maternity.

"She kept it a secret from me, from you, from everyone… and Julian found out about it somehow and felt threatened by it. He…" Stefan glanced down at his hands; they were trembling. "He beat her until the baby was longer alive." Lily's purely perplexed expression pinched her face. "Her child—your _grandson_ -was _murdered_ by Julian. She swore me to secrecy, but the truth is too important. You need to know what kind of man he is."

As sincerely as possible, Damon added, "I think what Stefan's trying to say is… you have _really_ crappy taste."

Stefan turned in his brother's direction with a set jaw, but he didn't protest against his brother's brazen conclusion. Lily's eye twitched, and Damon couldn't help cracking a smile at his comment's success.

"My son, Valerie lied to me for over a century about you. Then, she tried to kill a member of my family in cold blood and tried to incinerate the love of my life. Do yourself a favor—don't lose any more sleep over the words that come out of that poor girl's mouth."

Despite the validity in her argument, a small anger bundled in the pit of Damon's being. Their mother always believed Stefan, which was why Damon gave him the nickname _Saint_ Stefan, and she would fight to defend him even if he was wrong. The only person she had ever put over him was Giuseppe—and now, _Julian_.

After a long pause, Damon noticed Stefan nodding. He gave a curt chuckle, and muttered, "Wow." Damon agreed—wow, Lily, way to put your son, your _grandson_ on the backburner to your so-called love. Stefan poured three drinks, a shallow smile on his face. "I guess the joke's on me, then, right?"

Wait, _what_?

"I mean, I was the idiot who believed her."

Damon watched as Lily nearly sighed of relief. Stefan's words seemed to reanimate the bright and loving part of her again. "I did too, about many things, but I will not make that same mistake again."

"Here's to moving on then, right?" Stefan slid the glass to Lily, and they both got to their feet. Damon sighed, wondering what the hell his idiot little brother was doing, grabbed a glass, and rose with them.

"To moving on," Lily smiled, touching her glass to Stefan's. Damon eyed Stefan's glass falter at his lips, and both watched Lily tip hers all the back. Damon always thought his tendency to drink came from Giuseppe, but maybe it came from both sides of the family.

When she came up for air, Damon immediately heard the sound of burning flesh. Neither of her sons rushed to her aid as she groaned and hissed all the way down to the floor, landing in a heap of limbs. Damon glanced into the glass he nearly downed.

"Concentrated vervain," Stefan explained, staring down at her unconscious body.

"Wow." Damon set the drink down and stood next to Stefan as they studied their mother under the vervain's effect. "I ever mention like I your style?"

"I had a feeling we were going to have to do this the hard way."

A wide grin erupted on Damon's face. "Best Thanksgiving _ever_."

* * *

 **Again, I know things are slow, BUT I'm not going to dive into the Phoenix Stone stuff as much. So, no episode 7x10… and I'll be combining some stuff and writing more original scenes! It's the original scenes that are taking** ** _forever_** **.**

 **Hope you enjoyed! Review for inspiration and motivation, please!**

 **xo,**

 **glass27doll**

* * *

 **Georgia-Virginia Princess:** Ooo, you know, I considered Alaric for Rebecca's pairing, because I really wish the show didn't make him so broken... but for now, it's Damon and Rebecca. Thanks for reading and reviewing!

 **lost'n'whatnot** : Yay! I'm glad you're enjoying it! Since the reveal of Rebecca's creator, we'll be seeing a lot more of her past. Enzo is just so _fun_ to dabble with ;) Thanks for reading and reviewing! Hope you enjoyed the update!

 **RHatch89:** _Thank youuuu_! Hope you enjoyed it! Thanks for reading and reviewing!

 **luvudramione** : I _love_ Bamon through and through, which makes it even harder to write DamonxRebecca, but it'll definitely end up with these two. Weaving Rebecca into the new episodes is a little harder now, especially with Bamon being so close to becoming canon, but we'll see! Thanks for reading and reviewing!


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